Last modified: August 5, 2020
phoebejournal| July 30, 2020| From the Archive, Poetry
The chlorophyll remains in leaf: the limbs
retain their hair: the trees do not believe
the sun will set on them. They think the film
of heat is normal—that it will revive
their energies. Their organelles deceive
them. Arctic air is coming: the frigid winds
decelerate, creep at angles, cleave
the weeks—abnormal patterns bend
cuticle and xylem. The curl of fronds
should soon commence, for their own sake:
precipitation turns crystal at end
of month: the sappy network may soon break
beneath the neck of snow. The season, white
and brittle, may betray the strange sunlight.
Janann Dawkins’ work has appeared in publications such as Existere & Ouroboros Review & soon features in The Flea, Two Review, and Blue Fifth Review, among others. In 2008, Leadfoot Press published her chapbook Micropleasure. Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, she manages the eclectic journal Third Wednesday in Ann Arbor, MI.
Samantha Malay, “Night Bloom #37” Phoebe Issue 47.1