BROWSE Columns
✕
We live with less---
fewer bees and butterflies.
I'm stuck on how many
summers I have left.
My skin loosens, and others
younger than me die.
There's some loss you can do
nothing about except lose sleep.
In early fall a child bikes
at breakneck speed, crashing
and flying into the air.
She knows this is no
laughing matter, only a lesson
about laxity. Monarch
migration no longer synchs
to milkweed habitats
or early-blooming wildflowers.
I hear a one-note sound
coming from my ancestor's bones
beneath the ground. I say,
pin me down to dust and let
my grandchildren hear my echo.
They will give respite
to the winged.
Carol Matos’ debut collection of poems, 'The Hush Before the Animals Attack', was published by Main Street Rag in 2013. Her poetry has appeared in 34th Parallel, Zone 3, The Comstock Review, ROOM, The Prose-Poem Project, Columbia Journal, RHINO, The Chattahoochee Review, Broad Street, Pinch, Barrelhouse, and The Potomac Review (forthcoming). She has been a semifinalist for the Spoon River Poetry Review Editors’ Prize, and a nominee for the Pushcart Poetry Prize. Formerly a professional photographer with exhibitions in New York City and Europe, she now serves as Vice President for Administration at Manhattan School of Music.
