Bitter Root by Ag Synclair

Bitter Root

when you find yourself
deep in the blooming darkness

take those fat boots and go west
as far west as you can muster

out beyond the red plains
out where the cowboys chew the sky

fold the messy and tangled things
into squares that fit in your back pocket

plunge, deeply
into the mad scrim of it all

then, finally, ask the birds
to vouch for your innocence.

by Ag Synclair

Editor’s Note: The beautiful imagery in this short poem evokes a feeling that is incredibly difficult to put into words. “…where the cowboys chew the sky” might be one of the best things I’ve ever read.