On the upland heath above Marconi, I watch a hawk
keying into prey over broom crowberry and poverty grass,
above the ocean swelling with seals and the two souls
a great white and browning storm waves took into the dark
these last weeks. Controlled fire sustains this terrain—
management by match. After small burns, a renewal
of native brush, thicket of ground shrub. Could it be the same
with us? After we’ve destroyed each other, could cinder
conjure a new start? Gutted, glutted with the casualties
of argument—bleak but burgeoning as the dawn.

Rebecca Hart Olander

Rebecca Hart Olander’s poetry has appeared recently in Crab Creek Review, Ilanot Review, Mom Egg Review, Plath Poetry Project, Radar Poetry, Solstice, Yemassee Journal, and others. Her chapbook, Dressing the Wounds, is forthcoming from dancing girl press in the fall of 2019. Rebecca lives in Western, Massachusetts where she teaches writing at Westfield State University and is editor/director of Perugia Press. You can find her at rebeccahartolander.com and @rholanderpoet