Poems by Christie Towers and a Drawing by Jen May!



Drawing of pillows by Jen May
Drawing of pillows by Jen May



we are driving
through the last
sweep of summer,
the sun sifted
through a fray
of corn, the field
repeating itself
like a stutter
between telephone
poles, stark stalks
framed by birdfalls
of slack, black wire.



the sky’s heavy hand
dusted with powdered
bone. an incremental
heft, a pile of sand,
a mouthful of salt,
a tether — the earth
spinning us closer,
our limbs lashed
to its side.



seeing her, it begins
to swim. a snake
in your stomach,
green and gold
and shining. a stone
spun in sand, smoothed
by salt and sea.
open your mouth,
remember swallowing:
six years old and already
in love with it, the way
the sun buried itself
in her skin. the light of bodies,
the filtered noon.



the waveless sea,
unbroken mirror
of sky. blue pressed
into blue, gray into
gray. one darkness
pawing the other until
there is no separation,
the one moving in the other,
fingerless, aimless, the self
unfolding, continuous.


Christie Towers holds a BFA in Poetry from Emerson College. Her poems have appeared in Narrative Magazine and Love Among the Ruins. She lives in Somerville, MA.