The Country

and when the dust had settled
when the chimes of autumn
were laid to rest
in its concrete sailboat
i rid myself of brittle & barrier
of skeleton man who runs
w/o heart
like its had-been flesh
i slowly position my head
on a pillow
in a dark room
head heavy as an anchor
that was spared into an ocean
by a God
who set apart
sleep as redemption
for a sinner

About the author

Tonya Ingram is a New York University alumna, a Cincinnati native, a Bronx-bred introvert, and a soon-to-be Los Angeles flower-child. Her work has traveled…

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Issue 18 · June 2013

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