Worn trees moan:
Ghost-houses in winter.
These woods drink our depths.
We lope unfamiliar remote spaces
Old leaves like damp
Bedding across our faces.
Broken paths, broken branches,
Crescent sun on mud.
We do not know where we
Are going. But we dare to hope.
Darkness comes toward us
The snag of wooden claws,
The horror that hangs from trees,
Can look like love.
We hold to each others’ bare arms; our feet
Tap, tap, over skins and stones.
The soil, cold and blunt.
We trip on sticks.
If we should fall, snap bone—
For a long moment we see
Ourselves not just lost and alone
Swelling with starvation,
Two stars of blood
On cracked soil, a quiet fall
Into a tangle of witch-arm branches.
Savannah Thorne graduated from the University of Iowa where she studied in the Writers’ Workshop. She also holds cum laude Master’s degrees from De Paul University in Chicago and Norwich University in Northfield, Vermont. Her poetry has appeared in over a dozen literary journals. Most recently, her poems appeared in Handful of Dust, Meadowland, Extracts, Silent Revelations Press, and Linden Avenue. She is a finalist in the Mary Ballard poetry contest. She was delighted to be published in Conclave: A Journal of Character in its inaugural issue in 2008, and is excited for the new opportunities of becoming Conclave‘s managing editor. In her brief time as managing editor she has drastically changed the magazine while remaining true to its original focus. She has worked with several literary agencies and is currently marketing novels of historical fiction.
Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz is a writer and aspiring photographer. Her work has appeared in various journals, online and print, as well as several anthologies. She blogs about the creative life at http://wwwonewriter.blogspot.com.