ribcage ruptures formed
this earth. this lake pulled
into taut hauntings, spooled
into sky once lilac-oxidized.
we, sailored. we anchored
to brick and bark; twins in
these twilights and darkenings.
likelihood of return loosely
based on: how many of our
four daughters survived; how
close the place of death was
to home. home was once
such a bluebird refuge for us.
Emily Wilson, born and raised in North Carolina, is currently a senior at Oberlin College, where she studies Creative Writing, Religious Studies, and Latin. She is a Bonner Scholar and serves as Co-Editor-in-Chief of Oberlin’s literary magazine, The Plum Creek Review. Her poetry has been featured in RHINO, is forthcoming in The Raleigh Review and ROAR, and has been awarded the 2012 Emma Howell Memorial Poetry Prize. Some of Emily’s favorite things include: tobacco fields, Stevie Nicks, and the color of mangoes.