song of home
the night curtain of a pennsylvania summer
is falling as if through water
rich with the hum of cicadas
& katydid song, echoing the day
slow swimming back.
blackberry picking—five dollars a pound!
their purple blood drying
in sweet-mouthed bruises beneath fingernails
your hummingbird tongue
darts out tasting
earth & rain & deep & yes.
you squat in the garden, chew mint & grin.
goodbye blue mondays!
the plot of earth is rich
with goldenrod, painted prairie-fire,
black-eyed susans, muted in the lingering air.
it curves at its sides
as if traced by the delaware.
as the stars sharpen their bright bodies
against the sky, a hawk ruffles russet feathers
& dives alone.
she is waiting to be called sign.
below it all, wet roots & worms & water
pipes tangle in black knots,
open like a valve
& beating in the mud.
is falling as if through water
rich with the hum of cicadas
& katydid song, echoing the day
slow swimming back.
blackberry picking—five dollars a pound!
their purple blood drying
in sweet-mouthed bruises beneath fingernails
your hummingbird tongue
darts out tasting
earth & rain & deep & yes.
you squat in the garden, chew mint & grin.
goodbye blue mondays!
the plot of earth is rich
with goldenrod, painted prairie-fire,
black-eyed susans, muted in the lingering air.
it curves at its sides
as if traced by the delaware.
as the stars sharpen their bright bodies
against the sky, a hawk ruffles russet feathers
& dives alone.
she is waiting to be called sign.
below it all, wet roots & worms & water
pipes tangle in black knots,
open like a valve
& beating in the mud.
Julian River is an emerging poet and fiction writer from Pennsylvania. Their work has appeared in the 2023 Agnes Scott College Writers’ Festival Magazine and The Eunoia Review, and they are also the recipient of an American Academy of Poets University & College prize.
Beaver Magazine 