Ellen White Rook

AFTER HARVEST

As if you wintered in 
a seasonless resort
I press maple leaves between 
wax paper
red 
yellow 
orange 
I iron hands of leather oak 
I parcel acorns 
their empty caps
and whirligigs

In winter I’ll fold white paper
three times
and with tiny scissors fabricate
the plates and needles
of flake

I’ll send the tiny squares 
and cut-out hearts so you can
toss them in the air

For your children
who play
in rivers
of fire
pain
forgetfulness
wailing
and boundary

Who hide-and-seek 
in corners 
tangled in dust 
fallen lashes 
instars and broken 
glow

Send me their pictures

I’ll carry them in the daisy pocket
of my summer apron

__________

ELLEN WHITE ROOK IS A POET AND TEACHER OF CONTEMPLATIVE ARTS RESIDING IN UPSTATE NEW YORK AND SOUTHERN MAINE. SHE OFFERS WRITING WORKSHOPS AND LEADS SIT, WALK, WRITE RETREATS THAT MERGE MEDITATION, MOVEMENT, AND WRITING. SHE ALSO TEACHES IKEBANA, JAPANESE FLOWER ARRANGING. ELLEN IS A RECENT GRADUATE FROM THE MASTER OF FINE ARTS PROGRAM AT LINDENWOOD UNIVERSITY. HER WORK HAS BEEN PUBLISHED IN MONTANA MOUTHFUL, NEW VERSE NEWS, RED ROCK REVIEW, TROLLEY LITERARY JOURNAL, ROCK & SLING, AND TOFU INK ARTS. IN 2021, TWO OF HER POEMS WERE NOMINATED FOR PUSHCART PRIZE. VISIT HER WEBSITE AT ELLENWHITEROOK.COM.