While Loading the U-Haul in Cortland, Ohio

by Karen Schubert

I rest a moment, thinking how the light
comes through the pasture dry with flowers past
the windows over granite sills, at night
the bats return and shiver in. The last
child born here lived, our dead reside
across the lake under their stones.
The wren sits deep in flowers as a bride,
her basket swings in breezes, thistles sewn
to feed the finches, bluebirds eye the feral
cats. Deer prints crossing deep night snow,
to stand under an eagle riding thermals,
the day a stoat came loping on the road.
Near the empty mailbox’s rusted stain,
the lilac lies in bud; waits for rain.


Karen Schubert‘s chapbook The Geography of Lost Houses (2008) was published by Pudding House, and her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in anthologies and journals including Water~Stone Review, Poetry Midwest, Versal, DMQ Review, and diode. In 2008, she was nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Anthology. She is a recent editor of Whiskey Island Magazine and a current visiting writer at Texas A&M Commerce.

Back to Issue Two: Winter 2009