Mosstrotter

Where can I move
without breaking a branch

past worm cursive
and girdled birch

by the pink river
pearling in the reeds

the bright scent of balsam
wringing the air clean

and far up some thrush
calling wind in a bottle

my face turned up
flat as mayapple.

The Horse Isn’t Blue, Just Far Away

I imagine the fields
are snowless by now

a yawning quilt of
flattened baskets

a brailling finger of
coyote tracing the stitch

a blackbird-gripped reed
listing in the sleet

and the lessening road
now quiet enough

to hear the rest
soft at their breathing.

Jaron Childs is a writer, visual artist, and musician. He studied painting at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design. His first poem was published in 2020 in The Boston Literary Magazine. He is currently working on his first novel. He lives with his family outside of Tomahawk, Wisconsin.