Look where I am, Ma
A sunset soul wandering
Transplanted, like a heart
This isn’t anything like home, Ma

The clouds are so big they cast shadows
And the trees populate the hills like
Rain
A rain song that sings
And settles like an argument to make
Silence.

Such a phantom grace lives here
That the whole world smiles and calls green
Peace

But the shade does not rest here
It rolls like marbles
And follows the river toward
Sanctuary

Look where I am, Ma
I’m an insect on a volcano filled with ice
Empty eyes on a church steeple
Praying that I am not

A foreigner under a sky
Of two-way mirrors
Feeling phantom pain
From a limb left on a beach
And watching bugs make highways
Across my skin.

Look who I am, Ma
I’m a needle poking in
Pulling string through my veins
And perforating
The moon

A puddle with shores
Feeling somehow like
A glass of alcohol
And white chocolate,
Grains of sand stitched together with
A hurricane
And frowning at the seams.

Look what I am, Ma
Flower petals bleeding
Gold
And nesting in the afterdark.

hbrennan20@amherst.edu