ISSUE 10 FEATURE
JUNE IN ARKANSAS
I gaze at moths, spiders, and horned beetles
and recall pieces of my dreams: his voice here,
his hand there. Later, I sweep the porch.
Rivulets of sweat run down my throat and chest.
Who am I shining for? Phantom rain comes first,
then real rain pours. Every day I weep.
Light returns: a silver haze, chaperoned by crows.
I read for hours, sleep and wake; a string
of ants ties itself around my wrist. I wait
to feel in my heart the moment when day turns
toward night, and the trees become like children
walking home, asleep on their feet.
Chloe Honum is the author of The Tulip-Flame, winner of Foreword Review's Book of the Year Award, the Eric Hoffer Book Prize in Poetry, and the Best First Book of Poetry Award from the Texas Institute of Letters. Honum's poems and essays have appeared in Agni, The Paris Review, The Southern Review, and elsewhere. She is the recipient of a Ruth Lilly Fellowship and a Pushcart Prize.