Epistle to the Pumpkin Field

This is the truth:
They knife your face,

drag out your entrails
to feed to the crows,

and set the flame
in what remains.

Ecstatic vision.
One night: you shine.

Maryann Corbett

If you have any comments on this poem, Maryann Corbett would like to hear from you.

Snakeskin logo