Wendy McVicker
Alone in the Burning
by Wendy McVicker
ISBN: 9781962405072
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Wendy McVicker, 2020-2022 poet laureate of Athens, Ohio, is a longtime Ohio Arts Council teaching artist. Her previous books include the dancer’s notes (Finishing Line Press, 2015), the self-published collaboration with visual artist John McVicker Sliced Dark (2019), Zero, a Door (The Orchard Street Press, 2021), and Stronger When We Touch, a collaboration with poet Cathy Cultice Lentes (The Orchard Street Press, 2023). She loves collaborating with artists in many media and performs with instrumentalist Emily Prince under the name “another language altogether” whenever she gets the chance.
“We walk into that which we cannot yet see”
(Elizabeth Alexander)
At the edge of the clearing
I wonder: is it safe
to step out of the woods,
to stand under the lens
of the sky?
I know my way
through leaf litter
and bramble, how to slip
past without tripping,
without losing my sense
of sky and earth.
I’m used to the din
of cracking branches
and boulders crashing
down the hillside, creatures
screeching in the night, wind
scraping the land.
How will I read my path
through sweet grasses brushed
by the faintest of breezes?
How will I know
if a hunter is waiting, there
in the far shadows, holding
his breath, waiting for me
to step into the light?
Night fell
and we walked among
the blue shards, musing.
Some were silvery,
like mirrors; we peered
into them for pieces
of ourselves, a cheekbone
with a slant of eye, the palm
of an open hand.
Above, the sky
was full of jagged
holes, blue and black.
Clouds blew through,
clouds blew past.
We had troubled dreams
on those nights, and
we wondered, should we
gather the pieces and save
them for when we found
a glazier? Or let them
lie: most mornings
the sky was as flat blue
as ever. Maybe a crumple
here, maybe a small
tear. Some people
were tempted to keep
a bit of the night,
and hoard it, like a stone
or shell gathered
at the shore, brought
home and left on a sill
to grow dry and dull.
They were the ones
we blamed, for their
selfishness. They
were the ones we blamed
for our nightmares.
We forgot that nightmares
had always been with us,
they did not fall with the sky.
