Thrush Poetry Journal
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Avery M. Guess
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Before the Quiet, the Storm

Beyond my basement
window, a furious flurry

falls. The trees wear
their skeletons on the outside.

White line of snow bone
clings to trunk and limb.

A quilt of quiet covers
the restive street.

What if death
is not the absence

of sound,
but its opposite?

After dinner I push
a white tablet

the size of a baby
tooth past firm grip

of foil and cardstock
into my waiting hand.

It’s my 24 th attempt
to lasso the thoughts

that urge early endings.
Explain to my therapist

that maybe it’s silence
I crave, not an exit.

As a kid I sought
stillness by laying

flat as a flounder
at the bottom

of the pool, a friend
standing square

on my back, her feet
holding me in place

until my held
breath gave out,

until I was forced
to breach the surface.




Avery M. Guess is a recipient of a 2015 NEA Fellowship for Poetry. She is a PhD student at University of South Dakota, assistant editor for poetry at South Dakota Review, and an assistant editor at Sundress Publications. Recent poems appear in Mid-American Review, Southern Humanities Review, and Room Magazine.



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