I pray, approaching the rapture in their open, dying eyes: racoons, skunks, the occasional dog— its owner, desperate, calling Ollie, Ollie… A Hail Mary can’t help, but I say one anyway because it’s all I can do to relieve the weeping blister of my brain from studying their sweet crushed skulls. Sometimes, I’ll drag a doe into the reeds to keep my secret: I am not a nice lady.
Amy Thatcher is a native Philadelphian, where she works as a public librarian. Her poems have been published in Guesthouse, Bear Review, Rust + Moth, Rhino, and are forthcoming in Crab Creek Review.
11/8 / Meet the Artist with visiting poet-in-residence Ruby Hansen Murray / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 6:00 pm EST / Free
11/8 / Poetry Reading with visiting poet-in-residence Ruby Hansen Murray and local poet Judy Ireland / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 7:30 pm EST / Free
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What a skillfully spare, moving poem by Amy Thatcher. I relate to that dissonance we feel when we see a dead animal: wanting to examine, and wanting to honor.
Amazing poem and that ending is FIRE.