Tag Archives: desperate

Places We Recognize

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

When we are
desperate
and can’t recognize
the world,
we climb
into words,
grasp letters,
covet paragraphs
to find
smallness.
 
When we are
desperate
we go to this
small garden
to gather ourselves
in the act of
cleaning away dying plants —
to repeat our worth —
in places we recognize,
like the wounded fox
that crawls 
into the small culvert.

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Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry