Come inside. Quit the crusade
on squirrels. We have no use
for those berries anyway. Let me
brush aside stubborn snow
stuck to the shoulder pads
of your wool coat. We’ll hang it
over the hearth, burn whatever lived
through absolution with the absolute
truth: the mind can’t keep spinning
unless first you recognize it’s spent.
Poem by Natalie Eckl
Originally from Rochester, NY, Natalie Eckl now lives in Washington, DC where she has recently completed her undergraduate degree in English and creative writing at George Washington University. Her poetry has been accepted by Black Fox Literary Magazine and Five on the Fifth which will both be published in the next few months.