TO CAR PARK
pine needles align
iron filings
magnet rain
tree vomits dried
apricot egg fruit spore
probably we are already dead and these are
the sights of the things that did for us.
My next word will be a spit-up slice
of orange.
I mean we’ve all seen this movie and it’s not enough.
There’s bears in the woods, but
bears mind bear business.
I’m no porridge-gobbler B&E.
bark twists bulges out
gravity and hysteresis
sky is a ghost
purple, and sliding the wrong
way from the downstairs wind.
These are the signs of the dead:
WELCOME, and
EXIT.
Dawn Macdonald lives in Canada’s Yukon Territory, where she was raised off the grid. She holds a degree in applied mathematics and used to know a lot about infinite series. Her poetry has recently appeared or is forthcoming in FOLIO, Grain, Poetry Pause, Room, Typehouse Literary Magazine, Understorey, and Vallum.