by Katie Phillips
Winner of the 2010 Sapering Hol
Press Chapbook Competition.
the cemetery, I hit him.
He did not make a sound,
just wrapped his striped
tail round and
dipped the tip in the blood he was becoming.
back and hit him again,
to be right, to be kind.
That road was never darker.
My headlights must have seemed
like distant moons, then blazing suns-
then music of the spheres.
The moon, so orange, did not fit
leaves. It slipped
away, made itself
an anti-leaf. I thought if, heavy
with haze, it crashed down
on this paved planet,
there would be no
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read by the author, Katie Phillips
For Driving Montana, Alone
haunting poems in Driving Montana, Alone are in physical and spiritual
offers her readers a series of gritty, pastoral, elegiac poems. Her radiantly
distilled meditations are uncompromising, direct, and beautiful."