Christine Marshall
The Stillness
The wings’ slow spread, the mist-webbed field:
our day began like a horoscope
or dream scattered with archetypes
in which your teeth fall into a well,
your mother drains the well with a needle
and a magnifying glass.
The owl was probably just done hunting,
ready to find a nest from which
to issue one last call, then drowse
to sleep. But I could not stop puzzling
the signs, the sense of meaning
just beyond the field by which I stood
with my boy. If I didn’t break the spell,
a red fox might materialize, gesture
follow me with his tail, or lightning
crack the mist, a voice might sing
directions for my day, my life.
I’m waiting. I offered my palm
for the elusive to land. Behind me,
my son struggled into his car seat, waited
for me to click the latch. As I do,
I turned. I clicked. He settled.
I pocketed the owl, the mist, the fox,
the stillness holding what I already knew.
Christine Marshall received her PhD in Creative Writing/Poetry from the University of Utah. Her first book of poetry, Match, was published by Unicorn Press in 2017 and her poems and essays have been published in Best American Poetry and journals such as Agni, Beloit Poetry Review, Iron Horse Review, The Missouri Review, and The Sun.
Return to July 2023 Edition
The wings’ slow spread, the mist-webbed field:
our day began like a horoscope
or dream scattered with archetypes
in which your teeth fall into a well,
your mother drains the well with a needle
and a magnifying glass.
The owl was probably just done hunting,
ready to find a nest from which
to issue one last call, then drowse
to sleep. But I could not stop puzzling
the signs, the sense of meaning
just beyond the field by which I stood
with my boy. If I didn’t break the spell,
a red fox might materialize, gesture
follow me with his tail, or lightning
crack the mist, a voice might sing
directions for my day, my life.
I’m waiting. I offered my palm
for the elusive to land. Behind me,
my son struggled into his car seat, waited
for me to click the latch. As I do,
I turned. I clicked. He settled.
I pocketed the owl, the mist, the fox,
the stillness holding what I already knew.
Christine Marshall received her PhD in Creative Writing/Poetry from the University of Utah. Her first book of poetry, Match, was published by Unicorn Press in 2017 and her poems and essays have been published in Best American Poetry and journals such as Agni, Beloit Poetry Review, Iron Horse Review, The Missouri Review, and The Sun.
Return to July 2023 Edition