Issue 2,  Poetry

Hard stubborn things by Lee Potts

Knowing all about easing soil aside 

        But wanting only water

Tree roots tend toward rivers

        Tip right past what must seem like just more stone



All those hard stubborn things 

That they couldn’t carry, keep, or protect 

        Shards, buckles, rusted blades

        Plates, cups, combs, coins



Once deeply desired, once needed

Once held as tightly as a child’s hand

        Running through streets of dark, dead houses

        Just before an army arrives along with the rain



Then discarded, lost, buried

Forgotten fruits of violent seasons  

        Finally found and teased back into air and light

        With shovels and a series of increasingly tender tools

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Lee Potts is a poet with work in several journals including The Painted Bride QuarterlyGargoyleGhost City Review, and Barren Magazine. He also has work forthcoming in 8 PoemsUCity ReviewSugar House Review, and Parentheses Journal. He lives just outside of Philadelphia with his wife and his last kid still at home.  He’s online at leepotts.net.

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