by Mary Carroll-Hackett
that dry longing column of the throat, that waterfall of want, an indifferent sky, both scold and sere. We’re here, but here is hollow-boned with need. Seeds crouch against cracked earth, reeds burnt gold lurch in search of water, the long-necked ibis slouches away, turning heated eyes back, staring, a glare smoldering even deeper than the drought. You’ve had your way, the eyes say, with all of us. In some barren corner, spiders drink some drop of dew here and there, the earth cracks and shudders, the arid riverbed whispering dust to dust.
Mary Carroll-Hackett is the author of eight collections of poetry: The Real Politics of Lipstick, Animal Soul, If We Could Know Our Bones, The Night I Heard Everything, Trailer Park Oracle, A Little Blood, A Little Rain, and Death for Beginners, released from Kelsey Books in October 2017. Her newest chapbook, (Un)Hinged, was released Fall 2019. Mary co-directs the Creative Writing program at Longwood University and teaches with the low-residency MFA faculty at West Virginia Wesleyan.