Walk once again around the yard with me,
before the autumn’s early frost pulls down
my garden’s ornaments. Though we’ve both known
the little deaths of sleep, I’m not ready
for the darkness or hereafter. I’ve heard
you grew religious once this bloody world
had shaken heel of you but I am still
devoted to the grass beneath our feet,
to heirloom chickens, honeybees, the wall
of pines that shields us from society.
Will I linger in some future person’s
past the way that you persist in mine?
See that mantis on the seed-head’s golden
throne—she too readies for the end of times.

Elizabeth Sylvia’s second collection, Scythe (2026), is forthcoming from River River Books. Her first collection, None But Witches (2022), was the winner of the 3 Mile Harbor Book Award. Elizabeth was the winner of the 2023 riverSedge Poetry Prize and has received fellowships from the West Chester Poetry Center and the Longleaf Writers’ Conference. She lives in coastal Massachusetts.

Appears In

Cagibi Issue 24