jennifer k. sweeney / poem

Boxelder

I root the streambed.

The slow current roots me.

Things pause at the water

stilled by its delicate plash

but do not see in me motion,

knobby, squat, a sentinel,

do not taste my sugar sap

or feel riffles of wind 

along my fissures. 

Come closer, I become

a tussling

a forager of throughlight

under oakwoods. I make

shadows under shadows

a curved-wing rushwork.

Three bears follow 

the bank at dusk, 

paw the wet earth. 

I spill. Inspill.

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Jennifer K. Sweeney is the author of four poetry collections: Foxlogic, Fireweed (Backwaters Press/Univ. of Nebraska); Little Spells; How to Live on Bread and Music, which received the James Laughlin Award, the Perugia Press Prize and a nomination for the Poets’ Prize; and Salt Memory. The collaborative chapbook, Dear Question, with L.I. Henley, was published in late 2024 from Glass Lyre Press. The recipient of a Pushcart Prize, her poems have appeared widely in journals, most recently in About Place, Cider Press Review, Guesthouse, Orion, Poetry Northwest, Rogue Agent, Sixth Finch, The Shore, Terrain, Waxwing.