by Lindsay Rockwell
Witness
We the salt of our skin
we besotted by the moth
the woman the spider trapped
in its own web
we the witness witness
every restless
every current
thunk of newspaper
landing on the porch
day not yet
open every window shut
from the rain the rain
persistent as if in welcome
to some invisible blessing
riding down or between or amidst
sheets of relentless wet
the thing about the moth
the woman the spider
we know them
each in their own circle circling
we recognize their falter
the thing is we can't help ourselves
can we
curiosity a mighty leash
all our not knowing
scuffling down the stairs
in slippers to the porch
wishing we could open a window
wishing we could show our teeth
Lindsay Rockwell is poet-in-residence for the Episcopal Church of Connecticut. She's recently published, or has work forthcoming in Humana Obscura, Poetry Northwest, Poet Lore, Radar, Spillway, and SWIMM every day, among others. Her collection, GHOST FIRES, was published by Main Street Rag, April 2023. She’s received fellowships from Vermont Studio Center and Edith Wharton/The Mount residency. Lindsay is also an oncologist.