by Katherine West
I stand with my back to winter
as if I could hold off blizzards
with force of will alone
as if I could hold off blizzards
with force of will alone
I am the last dam without a crack
Water trickles over my shoulders
Flood whispers in my ears
I am rain following fire
tracking its crackle and whoosh
lowering like a raptor after prey
I am the final embrace before death
grabs you by the ankles
leaving only your soul in my arms
I am the last mother
carrying a million children on my back
swimming for safety against the tide
I am the last dancer, the last poet
the last artist using my own blood
to paint the last sunset
I am the last person on Earth
I have broken all mirrors, all my brothers
are only songs
Katherine West lives in Southwest New Mexico, near Silver City. She has written three collections of poetry: The Bone Train, Scimitar Dreams, and Riddle, as well as one novel, Lion Tamer. Her poetry has appeared in journals such as Writing in a Woman's Voice, Lalitamba, Bombay Gin, The New Verse News, Tanka Journal, Splash!, Eucalypt, Writers Resist, Feminine Collective, Southwest Word Fiesta, and The Silver City Anthology. The New Verse News nominated her poem “And Then the Sky” for a Pushcart Prize in 2019. In addition she has had poetry appear as part of art exhibitions at the Light Art Space gallery in Silver City, New Mexico, the Windsor Museum in Windsor, Colorado, and the Tombaugh Gallery in Las Cruces, New Mexico.