10/24/2012

Certainty: sorrow’s flesh,
birch sleeves snow-brittle, a fawn
wolf-ravaged. How I crest the ridge
to see them swarm, circle back, dive again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

When we encounter unthinkable tragedy, sometimes it’s nearly impossible to tear our eyes away from the wreckage. The ravaged fawn in “Vultures” is that ugly mess, a bloody horror strewn across otherwise-perfect snow. It’s ugly, gut-wrenching, yet we can’t stop seeing it, thinking about it, returning to it. It’s how we cope with loss: not by forgetting, but by letting the imprint sink in, wound us, & remain.

BIO:

Jennifer Yeatts' work has recently appeared on Linebreak & The Country Dog Review & is forthcoming from Boxcar Poetry Review. She received her MFA from the University of Idaho & currently writes from Traverse City, Michigan. Read her coffee blog at Java for Justice.
MORE POEMS:

03/01/2010
'At a Shell Station', Stephen Priest


10/31/2012
'Sweet Things', Alex Dimitrov


01/27/2010
'untitled', Kimiko Hahn