The 2River View | 24.2 (Winter 2020) |
A. M. Brandt There were mostly empty barns in our vastly empty where the tractor stopped, an abandon as palpable white sky, arrowheads hidden just under soil. When the rain fell there was a coming loam of the wheat-like shaft bitten and spit out, if if a woman dipped her hands in soapy water, a bed somewhere, a treasure still made new, the wide-open ahead of us, there was surely desire Whosoever Am I In fields where most of the orchards are gone, where land falls into itself, where Whosoever, but a sorrowing bone that tastes of sinew and packed The orchard’s secret is on wing, on scat- that which travels, across waters, wanting A. M. Brandt holds an MFA from the University of Minnesota. Her work has appeared in journals such as Cortland Review, The National Poetry Review, The Sewanee Review, and The Southern Review. She teaches at Savannah College of Art and Design in Savannah, Georgia.
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