FOUR POEMS

ELIZABETH A.I. POWELL

Cloud’s Song Why don’t you openthe red gingham curtains now?It’s morning again. Get your hiking boots laced.Coffee percolatesthe scent of your homemade life. You can surrender yourselfto your mistakes. I willbe your witness. Isn’t that why you sent mefrom your childhood skyacross time and space? I set sail on the skyover the Catskills, overthe Green Mountains, traveling out to go in,the trail map left by thosewho came before. Each blazed blue markerpainted on a tree where the routeturns toward the summit is where you can leavea mistake behind. Go upwardover the ridge of falling stones. The closer you get to the peakyour mistakes will sink intothe carrion and moss and make you stronger and more mystic.Why do you think I merelyhide the presence of God? You can be yourselfin any tense you like when you liein the grass and look at…

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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, January/February 2024

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