As If the Green Swamp Wasn’t Enough

Wooden bonfire

We sit around a fired glow
steeped in talk of rivers,
knowing full well streaming water

is the same as blood flowing
in muddy veins, our blood,
and the great Green Swamp is

our leaking heart as sure as trees
absorb our breath and if that’s not
enough to astonish; our dogs, wanting

to curl in a depression by
the bright coals, dig up a small
grub the color of moonlight

who stares at us with one, large,
luminous blue eye.



-Christine Cock

Christine Cock lives in the woods of Florida focusing on conservation, writing poetry, birdwatching, and teaching yoga and qigong. She received her BA in Creative Writing while working in zoological conservation. She has been published in The Eckerd Review, The Sandhill Review, Nature Study, The Albatross, Calyx, and others as well as several anthologies including Madville Press, The Mosaic, Peter Meinke’s fenshrift “And the Rocks Shall Hum,’ and Vociferous Press ‘Screams in the Silence’ where proceeds went to victims of domestic abuse. Her poems were also part of an exhibit at the Florida Museum of Natural History focusing on the Avian Research and Conservation Institute and swallow-tailed kites.