top of page

Where many branches meet...

  • sanchopanzalit
  • Oct 9, 2019
  • 1 min read

Livia Meneghin


Where many Branches meet...

          ...I stand still

long enough to see sunflowers turn

or feel a goddess of Minnewanka

keeping our canoe afloat,

her hand disguised as a graceful wave

         

...the world widens,

waking my wonder to witness every

clark I cannot see at first, grizzly hidden

in the wood, and drop of glassy glacial water

running to three faraway oceans

         

...we—women

comfortable being naked around each other,

with hair that takes an hour to wash

and dirt on our legs that takes even longer—

talk politics over poutine and finish it all

         

...sometimes a turtle lingers

as evergreen as the trees around her;

she climbs to Agnes slowly, speaks softly

about the inside of her shell,

and listens for the branches to crack

         

...snowflakes keep

each other on the forest floor.

Where many branches meet, I see

every color in the eye of a bison

as she turns towards me like I am the sun.

Recent Posts

See All
Their Final Ascent 

Ken Massicotte In their final days  climbing to mass each morning                      the stone steps worn with prayer  the studded oak doors, the nave safety from all disquiet vaulting the cleansing

 
 
 
Monday Morning

Daniel P. Stokes I unfold my chair to face the sun, but something’s out of kilter. Before I settle down to pad and pen, I have it twigged. There.                  That stream of water  falling to the

 
 
 
Aubade

Andrew Alexander Mobbs I see them through the window just before sunrise as I’m washing last night’s dishes, three glowing orbs cutting through the slate fog from the far side of the vast, crow-flecke

 
 
 

Comments


Sancho Panza Literary Society

Subscribe Form

©2025 by Sancho Panza Literary Society. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page