Poetry - Issue 19 | December 2013

When You Get There

by Kate Bernadette

When You Get There

What you’ve been told is factual.
That’s where the moths of the earth agglomerate;
don’t guesstimate how many.
Picture eggwads, bloodshot and pulsing,
and pretty orange silkwings flaking to gray powder.

Found at the trailside:
heal-all, heartseed,
and as you go higher,
erratics, lichen-furred.

And as you go higher,
petrifications, fossilizations,
the outline of your own hand among them.

About the author

Kate Bernadette Benedict has traveled a great deal…around New York City. She has dipped a toe into France and England and gone total immersion in Ireland and Maine. Her travels in what James Hillman called the Dream and the Underworld have been the most transformative. Her poems have appeared in countless literary magazines and anthologies and she is the author of two full-length poetry collections. Her highly esteemed online poetry journals are now closed, but permanently archived and worth a read: Bumbershoot, Tilt-a-Whirl, and Umbrella.

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