Saturday, November 9, 2013

Medicine Poet Erin M. Bertram

Here, now, a poem from the beautiful Erin M. Bertram. 

Erin is the 2013 recipient of a John Woods Scholarship from Prague Summer Program and the author of nine chapbooks, including Body of Water(winner of the 2007 Frank O’Hara Chapbook Award),Inland Sea (winner of the 2009 Robin Becker Chapbook Prize), and Memento Mori and The Vanishing of Camille Claudel (both forthcoming in 2013).  A former teaching fellow at Washington University in St. Louis, she has received awards and fellowships from Split Rock Arts Program, Lettre Sauvage, Augustana College, and the Academy of American Poets.  She currently teaches English and Women’s & Gender Studies at Augustana College along the Mississippi River, where she co-coordinates the campus Safe Zone Program. 


Pilgrimage


Gray-gauzy light, the edges manic & tired, & at night, head tilted back, a welter of stars invading kindly.

                                 The dust-driven trail drives the hiker to query the miles stacked in her boots—sylvan confessional, autumn’s ochre hum.

                                                                                              Pocket-knife, tin cup, ferro rod, afterimage of last night’s hurrah still warm in her hands.

                                                                                                           And the wind nuzzles its maw like a filly at a gate.

                                       Where does what has left us go?

                                                                                                     If I make of my hands a temple—incense, votive, blocks of cool stone, the vocal bow chanting makes of the air—who, then, will reach, unstumbling, for the braided rope, coax the rusted metal to sing its tiny room?

                Tall grass taken by snow, rain tumbling coins from the sky’s torn black jeans, a wind that bays—I am willing to follow it anywhere.

                                                                                                  Of quietude, the body, in time, adjusts to the added weight.


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