Archive for March 24th, 2022

Thursday, 24 March 2022

Dendrochronology by Caleb Nelson

You can lacerate my pointed wing.
I can put my head inside a cloud. Poof.
It is 2002, I remember your last day on earth.

You had Ray-Bans parting your hazel hair.
Everything is cliché, eventually. I remember
your numbing shimmer, your half-life of love.

It was too easy for you. You poked my inactive
cells, this sting of rain, a longer season of growth.
There’s one black mark: the space you left behind.

Even now, I try to prophesy your return.
I offer sweet lies to the red-tailed hawks
and your memory devours me like forest fire.

From: Nelson, Caleb, “Dendrochronology” in Epigraph Magazine, Issue Seventeen, February 2018, p. 10.

Date: 2018

By: Caleb Nelson (19??- )