“…The same shadows stretch long from the trees
The same crows peck at the unfortunate seeds
And I, unchanged, lay myself down in the womb of the earth…”

Return

by Meaghan McDonald

Let us return at once to the sunless lands of my lineage
Where mists control the ebb and flow
of my forgotten mother’s tongue
Through which I have learned to sing instead of speak,
Recitations of a prayer whispered through fault lines

Little grows here that is not smothered and stunted;
No golden sheaves of wheat nor listening ears of corn.
I wonder —
I did not grow from boy to man in this place
No willows whispered their secrets to the curve of my ear.

The same shadows stretch long from the trees
The same crows peck at the unfortunate seeds
And I, unchanged, lay myself down in the womb of the earth

Remake me — right this time
Unravel the spool of my making
Weave me into the shape of a man, of a shawl, of a shroud
A final embrace for the dead
Before they return
As I have

Meaghan (they/them) spends their days briefing cases and researching niche legal issues, but finds a certain freedom in poetry and prose. In the space they carved out for creativity, they became fond of fantasy. This love for the fantastical has inspired them throughout their life, and carries their writing as constant as a heartbeat.

MICRO FICTION

return to POETRY!