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Lucretia Voigt

Lucretia Voigt received her BA from Eckerd College and is currently in the MFA program at Queens University of Charlotte. Her work has previously appeared in the Women Speak anthology series. She lives in Wyoming, Ohio but her heart has never left the hills of Eastern Kentucky.

New Moon

In these mountains, darkness
is a hand-sewn funeral dress.
Moth-eaten holes
let the stars
shine through.

The new moon indigo
turns the dirt path between
our houses treacherous,
gives cover to the coyote
that’s been pilfering the chickens.

My people planted by the signs,
canned our vegetables
by the phases
of the moon.

I sit on the porch,
hear the rustle of dancing sprites
in the leaves of the poplars,
wait for my eyes
to adjust.

It is not the darkness I mind.
but the emptiness –
the missing boots by the door,
muddy from hiking the ridge,
the silent banjo locked in its case,
growing dusty in the corner,
the cast iron cornbread pan,
cold and empty in the cupboard.
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