Resurrection in Blue by Jennifer Lothrigel

At dusk,

the ground quietly

becomes blue.

 

The air crawls

on my skin.

 

The sky awaits

the crescent moonrise.

 

The moths gather closer to the porch light.

 

The last bird songs of the day

sing back my huntress mind.

 

The slow flow of eve

is visible in my exhale.

 

I lay down,

like a mirror in the grass,

my body

shape-shifted into a sky

full of floating.

 

I trace my finger along

the dendritic veins

on my wrist’s surface.

 

Their raised rivers

slowly swim upstream

until they are lost in my forearm;

rise again in the crease of my elbow,

branch out into many channels

across my shoulder,

then spill into my breasts.

 

The soft breeze rattles nearby chimes.

Faded stars twinkle atop the hill.

This is enough to get by.

 


Jennifer Lothrigel is a poet and artist residing in the San Francisco Bay area. She has just published her first chapbook through Liquid Light Press, titled ‘Pneuma’. Her work has also been published in Deracine, Rag Queen Periodical, Poetry Quarterly, The Haight Ashbury Journal, NILVX and elsewhere.