Tyler Jacobs


Befindlichkeiten (Sensitivities) by Eberhard Marx

The trees expose their souls in winter. Purple remains

The hue of death as felled trees rot and drape frosted propane

Tanks. Friction settled in the palm. We never think

Of having to begin again as if the sun drowned and groundhogs

No longer played in the yard. I tell my brother, as we remove

The doors to our father’s house, that the air inside these walls

Killed him. He takes deep breaths through his shirt. I

Hack and wheeze with my palms and knees in the sand

Blown yard before sunset. A few more months

And everything will return as if wounds were never opened.


About the writer:
Tyler Michael Jacobs currently serves as Editor-in-Chief of The Carillon. He is the recipient of the Wagner Family Writing Award Endowment. He has words in, or forthcoming: White Wall Review, Runestone, The Hole in the Head Review, East by Northeast Literary Magazine, Aurora: The Allegory Ridge Poetry Anthology, Funicular Magazine, among numerous other journals.

Image: Befindlichkeiten (Sensitivities) by Eberhard Marx (1951- ). No medium specified. No size specified. By 2010. By free license.