Landlock
Of church, we
know pine. Of voice
in the dark,
we know owl
on the cusp
of our sleep.
There are four
winds, four
faces of the year,
four compass
points from which
to walk away.
Of sea, we
know the body
& the coin
at the center
of the body: all
mineral & bright.
Let me loose
to the hills. I’ll
mine them. Before
rail. Before bison
shot from the distance
of rail. Our soles locked
& stemming down.
Here—this
sea of hawk-hued
grass. Say
how we made it here
shining to shining.
biography
AUBREY RYAN is the author of Good Beast, winner of the Phantom Books Breitling Chapbook Prize. Her work has appeared in Best New Poets, Anti-, Matter, Hobart, Booth, New Madrid, El Aleph, Quarterly West, Consequence, Diagram, Kindred, Phantom, Squat Birth Journal, The Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, and featured on broadsides by Team Nerd Letterpress. Aubrey is the winner of the Booth Poetry Prize and has been three times nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She lives in Iowa with her husband, two small sons, and a garden.