Jennifer Browne

Eyeless, earthworms tunnel
root-paths, routes for water. 
Nothing appears without 
something readying its way. 
Last night, I drove a moon-
bright road, thought of the  
other ones you’ve loved. 
Could there ever be a word 
to name what they made in
you, what they broke open? 
I taste a bit of apple peel 
and see the loam, the fungi, 
sun and worms. None of us 
can last alone. Let’s feel our
blind ways forward, pulse 
with all those extra hearts.

Jennifer Browne falls in love easily with other people’s dogs. She is the author of American Crow (Beltway Editions, 2024) and some other stuff, too. Find her at linktr.ee/jenniferabrowne or drinking coffee at Clatter in Frostburg, MD.