By Jack Maes
What was it of me you saw
What was it so cold like honey window rolled clear away from sill
What bird or even tree is clipped, deranged in flight or breeze, so anxious here
from promised land and stunted sky and what had I, when you found me, tell me,
what had I
What was it that held out hand like holy sweat and beady water
What was it so tangled, so thoroughly wide to clear a way and walk and call it walking
What was I what 39 lashed, what turned away
What was I what lashed and jumped and bit beneath
What was I what siren shrieked and mounted star came crashing
What hands had you what roughness, and ever how soft I was
What was I what came of you flummoxed but full, what pushed and colors saw and gentle felt
What gentle felt was made too gentle, what comfort made was stripped and dragged
What raw was I to you what foolish boy with shrinking hair
Who had never even ever-evened the braids of all the sunshine
Jack Maes is a Teacher and Writer from Southern California living in Northern Virginia. He has a BA and MA from the College of William and Mary, and likes to arrange his clothes at night before bed. He spends his time writing and sharing poems, drawing uniquely and poorly, and teaching people to have one-sided conversations with the sky. He has a website in the works where you’ll soon be able to read his newer creations.
Art by Michelle Johnsen, art editor
Michelle Johnsen is a nature and portrait photographer in Lancaster, PA, as well as an amateur herbalist and naturalist. Her work has been featured by It’s Modern Art, Susquehanna Style magazine, Permaculture Activist magazine, EcoWatch.com, EarthFirst! Journal, Lancaster Farm Fresh Cooperative, and used as album art for Grandma Shake!, Anna & Elizabeth, and Liz Fulmer Music. Michelle’s photos have also been stolen by AP, weather.com, The Daily Mail, and Lancaster Newspapers. You can contact her at mjphoto717 [at] gmail.com.