Native to my shadow
I am all breathmarks
carriage of ether and home
the deep liquid story
of the Himalayas.
Find me bent
toward the soft dun floor,
my habit is weeping.
You. Meet me there.
What is sap but time
slowed to a resin
mist-become-honey
mountain-become-pulp,
aroma of the dead
edging back to life.
I furrow I fold
all the lands in
breathe beyond my borders.
The wind draws you toward.
You taste before you see.
You are already on your knees.
Deodar Cedar
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, will be published in 2024 from Glass Lyre Press. The recipient of a Pushcart Prize, her poems have appeared widely in journals, most recently or forthcoming in Birdcoat Quarterly, Guesthouse, On the Seawall, OneArt, Orion, Poetry Northwest, Sixth Finch, Terrain, Waxwing.