by Jess Falkenhagen
An arrow slung straight to the heart.
Astonished,
clutching the wound, I turned to find the archer
and saw that it was you.
To look right at you
and not be able
to find you-
a panic like a quickly rising tide
be-
wilderment
incomprehension
Still turning it over like a stone in the early dawn.
I polished the pain until it gleamed so brightly that
it was the only light at all.
Jess Falkenhagen lives with her husband and 4 children in an old adobe house at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in Northern New Mexico. She spends her time trying to raise kind and capable humans, be of service to her community and carve out time to write poems. She has been to 41 countries and is training to become a midwife.
Hawaii Pacific Review 