One Poem
by Eartha Davis
cuisle na mara
If pressed
by sea pulse,
palms bloat
into mountains.
They swing
like plumes
over the heartbeat of
a mother.
For the great sea pulse
I have waited long —
forging feathers
from eyelashes,
stalks of
pupil foam,
keeping tongue
in river belly
to taste the soft gallows
of love. Let me be
winter one, snow one,
a fig tree that falls
on swollen moorland.
Remember — body is a womb
earth can water. She practises touch
precisely the way
a bird unfastens
her beak.
Eartha wishes to live simply, kindly, and most certainly by a river. She placed second in the 2022 Woorilla International Poetry Prize Youth Section, with work published or forthcoming in Wildness, South Florida Poetry Review, Hummingbird Blink, and Eunoia Review, among others. She is a poetry editor at Dipity Literary Magazine and Expressionist Lit Magazine, and a writer for Panoramic Press.