Current
Issue

Volume 12.2

Cecelia Hagen

Orphans

Having leapt from the egg
basket, the rabbit decided it was tired
of playing chicken. Under the barbecue grill
it adjusted its glasses, checked
its reflection in the French doors, then
went off into the first field
that spread its arms.

        Oh difficult
        keychain of daisies,
       
        oh sandbox encircling
        children who dig deep,

        what sweeps of spring we sip.

We remember the rabbit and eat the eggs
laid by chickens who hatched from eggs
that were plucked from the original basket—

        original to us, at least.

It turns out the memories of the ancients
have soared past and left us orphans,
more than a little burdened
by stories dimly recalled.

        Have you met the wind, the clouds ask,
        and we realize we are not sure.

cecelia hagen

Cecelia Hagen lives beneath big oak and Douglas fir trees in the Willamette Valley. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in River Styx, Guesthouse, Salamander, New Ohio Review, and On the Seawall. She is the author of Entering (Airlie Press) and the chapbooks Among Others and Fringe Living. Her work has received awards and fellowships from Literary Arts, the MacDowell Colony, and Playa. As part of a federally funded public art project, she wrote 26 short poems that were engraved on steel plates and reside at bus stops in her hometown of Eugene, Oregon.

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