Poetry - Issue 18 | June 2013

Give and Take

by Beth

All forms of landscape are autobiographical.
                                          -Charles Wright

I’d describe myself as a white sea
    without a coastline; without a cliff-
side to interrupt me, I am water
    breeding water: I have no
southernmost point. But at the Cliffs
    of Moher, the crests and
troughs of each wave are chisel and
    stone dust: thick white
powdery outline of an obelisk that’s
    always being forged. Think
of the Atlantic gradually eroding rock
    shale and sandstone—
while the puffin lays its one egg in the
    same burrow as last year
and the sea pinks domesticate the salt.

About the author

Beth McDermott has studied abroad in England and Ireland and hopes to return some day in the future. Currently, she resides in New Lenox, IL, and has spent much of the past six years commuting by train to Chicago. Her poetry is forthcoming in DIAGRAM and Harpur Palate.

More in the archive »