i think it must be by the tracks
where the river moves
immeasurably, is perfectly still
in the hollow of winter
say, in the center of the world
where the earth is white and the sky black,
the forest resonates
of the blue aura of you, shifting.
the light is left on in the chapel
where a whole
earth passes a closed breath around the sun,
this is a place without echo,
the unknown rests.
About the writer:
Elena Botts has lived in the Hudson Valley, Johannesburg, Berlin, NYC, DC, and many other places. In the past few years, her poems have been published in dozens of literary magazines. She is the winner of four poetry contests and has had six books published. Her visual artwork has won numerous awards and has been exhibited in various galleries. She has also collaborated on, released, and exhibited sound and moving-image art.
Image: Untitled photograph by Elena Botts. By permission.