By Elizabeth Landrum
Otherwise…
I twirl through mazes of cornstalks
without noticing
the flaxen beauty of the bounty,
the sweet musty scent
that mingles
muddy boots with damp husks,
and I’m blind to the raptor’s view
of patterns of maize.
Otherwise…
through all the twirl
I miss
a dragonfly flutter in my chest,
a tiny surge of thirst
and dewdrops nesting in petals.
Otherwise…
there are no periods,
no exclamation points,
and everything
everything evaporates.
Copyright Elizabeth Landrum 2010
Elizabeth Landrum is a clinical psychologist currently enjoying retirement life on an island in the Salish Sea. She was born in Kentucky, her “home of mind and memory,” and in her 40s was drawn to the Northwest, her “home of heart.” She lived in Edmonds, WA, for 15 years before retiring to Lopez Island where she has found time and inspiration for creative endeavors. She published two chapbooks, Shelf Life (2019) and Still Life (2021), and her poems have appeared in numerous publications. She served as poetry co-editor of Shark Reef with John Sangster for several years.
All work by Elizabeth Landrum
