I Lie Down

“They will keep coming back to the same swamp each winter until it’s clean- 
and then leave their bones among the cedars.”   -Durward L. Allen


I wait in the woods, 
I stand still as a white cedar 
and hold my hands out 
like branches until branches 
sprout from my ribcage. 


I stand still like this and wait 
until the deer come to strip 
my lower limbs clean down 
to my furrowed bark.


I lie down here by the copper-
colored water until it blooms 
white and thickens, then greys
and turns to ice. 


I lie down in this silent clearing 
and slow my heart to barely beating 
until vines grow around my damp 
and greening body. 


The deer cross and recross animal 
paths to return under bluer skies 
and in this way, grasses will grow 
and insect my clothing. 


They come and go and I lay my 
body down, dumbstruck.

Liane Tyrrel

​​Liane Tyrrel is a visual artist and poet. Her poems have been included or are forthcoming in: JMWW, InkSounds, Wrongdoing, Dead Skunk Magazine and more. She lives and walks with her dog in the woods and fields of NH.

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An Interview with Jesús Castillo