Departure then, two weeks later
a boomerang, I’m home. How often
in these boots? How many days?
Airport. Airport. Airport. Airport.
Here I come and you rush out
to meet me. First the touch down,
then first touch. But do I have
forever for incessant journeying
here/there/here to where you wait
arms wide? The sky, I find,
is calm, is never messy or upset.
You know how glad I am to go,
how I adore the silence, even though,
in every dream of home, you are that home.
Darwin Was Seasick For The Entire 5 Years
On the Beagle
in crepuscular light
wearing his human face
he made preparations
for the epiphany
in the grace
he kept a kind of
in his notebooks
as if he knew
they were holding
a vision disproportionate
to their size.
Wendy Taylor Carlisle lives in the Arkansas Ozarks. She is the author of two books, Reading Berryman to the Dog and Discount Fireworks and 5 chapbooks, the most recent of which is They Went to the Beach to Play (LoCoFo Chaps, 2017). Her poems are available in Cider Press Review, Josephine Quarterly, Kentucky Review, Mom Egg Review, The Ekphrastic Review, NEBO Journal, Arkana, and Damfino, among others. For more information, check her website at www.wendytaylorcarlisle.com.