The Innisfree Poetry Journal

by Jenn Blair Campbell


seamlessly knotting and running.
Days, decanted, spilling forth
praise, even as the sea floor
remains intact. Turned
back dog-eared mornings.
Sifted hours holding fissures
of blue robin egg—the bright
faded robes of mystery plays.

Trestlework. Latticework.
Love perched inside
six-sided wax cells—
the kettle whistling like a train.

Tunnels tucked under
Atlantic Ave. Stone
from Manhattan. Brick
from the Hudson Valley.
Pale obedient faces  
fading on Catacomb walls.
Fish bone glaring out
of a buried mackerel sky.

Finitus crumbling.
The scratched mirror
glass crying hilum:
even seeds bear scars.

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