Ryleigh Wann
Elegy with Spanish Moss
poem ending on a line inspired by Roger Reeves
Look at the crane. It stands soundless
in the ripples of the lake. It does not
seem to mind the echoes of falling leaves
creating currents. It cares only for the solitude,
the dull greens of the cypress trees and their
reflections in January, the suspended silence
of an unanswered question.
Red berries, bright like fireworks, shoot
from a branch in the water. If I eat them, crush
the skin into my palms, press the pit between my nails
until I cannot tell if the stain is juice or blood,
what would you say? I didn’t know it could get this messy?
Or would you have me hold my hands above my heart?
In a dream, you told me you loved me and a stone
fell out of your mouth. The words were written on it.
When I said it back, a bird crawled out of mine--
pushed its beak through my pursed lips, spread
its clumsy wings one at a time, breaking my jaw
bones, crooked and cobbed like a loose hinge.
My tongue hung, tangled and gnarled, like spanish moss.
I think that bird, too, was a crane.
Look at the crane. It stands soundless
in the ripples of the lake. It does not
seem to mind the echoes of falling leaves
creating currents. It cares only for the solitude,
the dull greens of the cypress trees and their
reflections in January, the suspended silence
of an unanswered question.
Red berries, bright like fireworks, shoot
from a branch in the water. If I eat them, crush
the skin into my palms, press the pit between my nails
until I cannot tell if the stain is juice or blood,
what would you say? I didn’t know it could get this messy?
Or would you have me hold my hands above my heart?
In a dream, you told me you loved me and a stone
fell out of your mouth. The words were written on it.
When I said it back, a bird crawled out of mine--
pushed its beak through my pursed lips, spread
its clumsy wings one at a time, breaking my jaw
bones, crooked and cobbed like a loose hinge.
My tongue hung, tangled and gnarled, like spanish moss.
I think that bird, too, was a crane.
Biography
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Ryleigh Wann (she/her/hers) is an MFA poetry candidate at UNC Wilmington. When she isn’t writing or reading on her balcony, she can be found playing with her dumbo rats, missing the Midwest, roller skating, or exploring nearby swamps. You can find her writing forthcoming in Press Pause Press, Emerge Literary Journal, and Semicolon. Follow her on Twitter @wannderfullll
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