by Ellen Stone
I found Sagitta, the Arrow in the August sky that year,
not knowing if I needed freedom or revenge.
I watched the grasses, taller than me, swallow the sky.
Wished the Kaw River would ferry me somewhere.
I emptied myself of everything I thought I wanted
and waited to see what would fill me back up.
It’s hard to remember what the heart wants when it tugs
like a jump rope. Sometimes you aren’t paying attention.
It’s hard to remember what happened after I saw him,
then tried to fall asleep in my sweltering summer bed.
I should have known Kansas can change directions—
the way thunderheads brewed miles away, then spilled
crazy, a thousand lawn sprinklers tipped and whirling,
drenching eaves and windows— turning into carwash.
He couldn’t have known I wanted to go shoot pool again
at that bar on 6th Street, see if I could beat him at Centipede.
Watch the way his mouth curved into the smoky light
when he laughed, the steady move of his hands on the cue.
I was not sure how to fill my time—preparing ground,
planting fall peas along the back chain-link fence.
In the future, there will be days I take for granted.
In the future, seasons will slide by like the Kaw.
What I didn’t know is that I would not be alone.
What I didn’t know is that this is how a life can start.
I stood on the edge of the Flint Hills and walked
its tumbled hollows until I felt like coming home.
Ellen Stone advises a poetry club at Community High School, co-hosts a monthly poetry series, Skazat! and edits Public School Poetry in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She is the author of The Solid Living World (Michigan Writers’ Cooperative Press, 2013) and What Is in the Blood (Mayapple Press, 2020). Ellen is a 2024 Writer in Residence at Good Hart Artist Residency. Her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart prize and Best of the Net.