Meghan Sterling

Writing and Workshops

Being Georgia


 

 

The desert became the reed of my spine;

It needed me to act as bridge,

Worlds of dark and light,

The stars between.

White birch split in shags,

Shadow of bone, showers of dust

The fuzzy skin along the dim and heavy blue

Above red ground.

 

I swore against all others but you—

Dust, air, wind, sun-you,

The bridging of selves,

In emptiness

Creating one, at last.

 

Lead me onto this long road

Alone with my companion,

Self, forever extending outward,

Like the sun reaching its fingers into my eyes,

Like the black crow, watchful in the dust.