East of anywhere will bring you here,
to the hut of the woman with obsidian eyes;
whose lived for ten thousand years--
looking.Her words come and go with the eddies that tangle the grasses;
all around her there is spacefor breathing in
and out again; for dancing and being still.
East of anywhere she builds her fire to guide you with its billows
and she cackles with the embers
until they hiss in the dark.Her voice is thin and when she calls
gets caught in the clapping leaves
or drowns in the sound of your body—
its beating and humming.East of anywhere she will be waiting for you to notice her
hiding in the trees and curling in the water.
East of anywhere she will beif you let her. If you look.
Laura CatapanoIthaca, NYFeeling inspired? Send your poem to email@example.com.