Family Drama

Slip of liquid on a smooth path.
A bolete blooms itself through brusque leaves.
Everywhere, the mycelia are thrumming.
Tree roots undermining the vibrations of cars.
A train up north opens doors, ingests kids.
Later, they pass my window on rumbling wheels.
I would like more safety in the pane glass.
I would ask the ground for permission to walk.
The roads are striped, vespine.
The touch of a wasp in all related things.

ξ

Meg Stout’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in publications such as Cimarron Review, Mid-American Review, North American Review, Zócalo Public Square, and the Portland Press Herald. A graduate of the MFA program at Warren Wilson College, she lives in Midcoast Maine.