My niece is as old as my grief. She crawls toward an electrical outlet in one video and open arms in another. I keep trying to live my life with brightness, despite knowing the straw goat goes up in flames every Yule. Many dead wind up in a potter’s field if they are buried at all. Nothing offsets my rage over the sale of a gun or the soda can tossed into a bird’s nest. Then I remember: a Connecticut warbler let me touch its plumage after my dad’s funeral.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 26, Issue 1.
Alicia Rebecca Myers’s poems and essays have appeared in Best New Poets (2015, 2021, 2023), Creative Nonfiction, FIELD, Gulf Coast, SWWIM, december, Threadcount, and The Rumpus. Her first full-length manuscript Warble was a finalist for the 2023 Akron Poetry Prize, and her chapbook of poems, My Seaborgium (Brain Mill Press), was winner of the inaugural Mineral Point Chapbook Series. She lives with her husband and son in upstate NY.
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