Kari Gunter-Seymour: That Spot where Raccoon Creek Meets Brush Fork
I wish I could say
I lay your body under the honeysuckle
the day you crossed over, let vine and wisp
hang nectar all around you.
October 18, 2021 · 6 Comments
Kari Gunter-Seymour: Heartland Hospice
When I was a kid, sick, he’d sing Hank William’s
Hey Good Lookin,’ call me his best girl.
September 27, 2021 · 8 Comments
Kari Gunter-Seymour: Last Night the Chime Of Tree Frogs
Granny Woman dances
under breeze-shivering branches,
her skirts a waltz of wings,
mouth full of stories.
She has emptied her house of men.
August 16, 2021 · 7 Comments
Kari Gunter Seymour: Planting By the Signs
I hear my grandmother’s voice, a divination,
Thick rolls the mist, that smokes and falls in dew.
July 5, 2021 · 9 Comments
