Member-only story
The Function of Mud
Sep 3, 2023
A poem about grieving
I stand in the middle of the floor
toes pointing north
heart pulling west
toward the dirt and moss
where you lie
my feet can’t move
they have forgotten how
I would bury them with you
so you could teach them
right from left,
teach my heart to beat again
instead, I stuff dirt into my mouth
swallow its grit
feel it follow veins
I am a golem
in the dark
shedding tears
turning my feet
into mud
All rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017. Originally published on my blog.
