Kathryn Merwin
One Night We Drove through Maryland
You couldn’t have survived long
away from the forest. I know.
Rain-thirsty, caught in the throat
of a sunflooded continent, slowly
unmothering your way to the shore.
We could have become the coast,
let the salt-rim of Atlantic swell
rush our skin into purple calcite.
Remember when it all
came together? Your bones,
my bones, a twisted map
of east and west,
like the seaboards running
into themselves,
forever & always
remaking each other.
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Kathryn Merwin is a writer currently based in Baltimore. Her work has appeared in Hayden's Ferry Review, Passages North, Hobart, The Journal, Sugar House, Prairie Schooner and Blackbird. She has read and/or reviewed for the Bellingham Review, WomenArts Quarterly and the Adroit Journal, and holds a MFA in poetry from Western Washington University. Her first collection, Womanskin, is available from CutBank Books. Connect with her at www.kathrynmerwin.com.