A tentative wilderness by Emma McCoy

A tentative wilderness

I put my hands in the dirt
and so do you. We walk for miles,
wade through water, cover each
other’s wounds without speaking.
I bite my tongue as always
and skip a stone across the surface.
The brush entangles our ankles
and dust settles as fast as my feet
can kick it up. At night the embers
of a fire glow softly on our faces
as I map the stars for you, hesitantly.
Gentle heat wards off familiar cold,
I open my bag on the boundary
to reveal the hidden things;
I sketch the landscape in the dark
and you listen to poetry like it’s music
and hear the words you never said.

by Emma McCoy

Instagram: @emma.mmccoy

Editor’s Note: After an invitational opening line, this poem transports the reader into the wilderness with exquisite detail—and really, isn’t that precisely what a relationship is?

3 thoughts on “A tentative wilderness by Emma McCoy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.