2 Poems by Lilah Clay

sundial

Photograph by Brian

.
A Weaving 
.
I feel like a sun dial.
That stone anchored
in field,
turning my shadow arm
around the day.
.
I always know what time
it is.
Time to pause,
breathe,
turn away
from the foundation of the past
poured over
skeletons of bad doctors.

                     *

So the years cobble me together,
part invalid, part brilliant.
A weaving of yarn and river
that bandages my presence
here.

                    *

Who mourns the soul
of an old barn
collapsing into firewood?
.
Who understands
the security of confinement
to rebuild anatomy
upright?
.
The Distance Crossed 
.
This cocoon you have spun
of silk, ink, scar tissue,
has summoned the irises
up from their winter graves
to watch you emerge
.
part sphinx moth,
part willow pressing forward
toward bone from buried roots.

.

So gently the transition
of embedded
to free legged,
only perennials
.
can sense the distance
crossed
from wood grain
to human
again.
.
lil
Lilah Clay is a writer, poet, and survivor of chronic Lyme. Her poems have been published in World Literature Today, Splash of RedHer CircleVine Leaves Literary JournalMarco Polo Arts Mag, and Ascent. Her current collection of poetry Bed, Window… Sky explores the imaginal realm of the last twenty months she has spent mostly in bed healing a back injury. 
.
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