m. a. scott / poem

Groundhog Day Aubade with a Line by Blake and My Own Shadow

Dawn brings a sharp taste of snow,

sun surgical and unmannered. 

Why did I leave? All we knew 

was ice dazzling the eaves, 

solidifying the ponds, our tongues 

frozen to the metal pole of language.

My brother texts me a photo 

of our father’s headstone. Ten years 

ago we had to wait until June 

to bury him, the cemetery 

unpassable under three feet of winter.

Windchimes, their urgency. Loud 

and more loud the living music 

floats upon the air.  Light outlines 

my body at the angle of memory.

---

M.A. Scott is the author of the chapbook Hunger, little sister (Ghost City Press, 2024). Her work has recently appeared in Stonecoast Review, Cease, Cows, The Night Heron Barks, and DMQ Review. M.A. grew up in Rhode Island, and currently lives in New York's Hudson Valley.