Thrush Poetry Journal
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Forester McClatchey
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Aubade
 
All human lovers are far away.
Caught in the magnolia’s cold arms,
 
the air is so still it makes the sap whine.
Night reveals the busy moods of love:
 
ants haul crumbs of lichen
on their humming black current.
 
Ankles brush through leaves
as dawn gets dressed in aching reds,
 
pouting for the mirror, whistling
like a murderess who’s done this before.




Forester McClatchey is a poet from Atlanta, GA. His poems appear in Pleiades and Bayou Magazine, among other journals.



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