Forester McClatchey
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.
Return to May 2019 Edition
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.
Return to May 2019 Edition