|Priska Wettstein, courtesy of Red Edge Images|
and liable to rapture
in the hours before dawn.
to the ruin.
Our salvage—shivering by the weeds.
Revenant, we falter toward the good—
for the smallest amount of the most worthless thing.
and with shy sweats
and the cold we’re night-blind by.
of a slaughterhouse—
or a labyrinth
to a slaughterhouse.
One by one.
Sandra Ridley is the author of three books of poetry: Fallout (Hagios Press), Post-Apothecary (Pedlar Press), and most recently, The Counting House (BookThug). She knows how to use a compass. Read our conversation on landscape, language and poetry here.