Ley Lines

It’s too cold for this now 
and half the brick is flooded - 
we wet our feet, laughing. 
The smell of algae is deep. 
As a girl I fed carp the color 
of mud, but their ancestors 
burned. Everything here reaches. 
Such a beautiful place, to be so hollow. 
My own want becomes acorn small. 
We scramble through the bushes, 
almost happy. There is crisp air 
here, and joy, if you look for it. 

BY KALI NORRIS, AKA SEKHMET 

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​Poet's Statement 

This was a walking poem, a form popular among modernist poets, especially the likes of Clare and Hopkins, and in their tradition, contemporary poets such as Oliver. Traditionally, walking poems are pastoral, focused on nature, but contemporary renditions are more flexible in their inclusion of people and or signs of the poet. This poem is inspired especially by Oliver, who puts longing in the landscape,  as J. D. Salinger said. 

“Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.”