I missed the Japanese maple bloom.
I was washing my mother's hair in the stream.
my mother's hair in the nectar. I was trimming the dead.
I was brushing fields of salt. I was sponging her smell.
sting when it hit the earth, and for grief to stop cawing my sleep.
Megan Merchant lives in the tall pines of Prescott, AZ. She is the author of two full-length poetry collections: Gravel Ghosts (Glass Lyre Press, 2016), The Dark's Humming (2015 Lyrebird Award Winner, Glass Lyre Press, 2017), four chapbooks, and a children's book, These Words I Shaped for You (Philomel Books). She was awarded the 2016-2017 COG Literary Award, judged by Juan Felipe Herrera. She is an Editor at The Comstock Review and you can find her work at meganmerchant.wix.com/poet.