When I was young I wove garlands
of hyacinth and garden clover —
shifting weight between hips
on the consuming wheatgrass beneath
- Wrangling vine, twisting tendrils,
twining together as one –
as we once did.
Hands fused, slipping
around an arm to be beside
the freckle on my neck — leaf
braided into stem, swiftly fusing,
a chain. As each petal tumbles
through sable sunset,
I recount how
we trembled.
**First line; a Sappho excerpt – translated by Willis Barnstone, from The Complete Works of Sappho, published by Shambahala Publications**
Author: Kayla Moore
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Kayla Moore is a poet and freelance writer from Cincinnati, OH. She received her bachelor’s degree in rhetoric and professional writing from the University of Cincinnati. You can find her reading copious poetry collections, making sarcastic remarks and drinking local coffee in her spare time while she’s writing.
Link to social media or website: Instagram @kayliz0796
