In the Woods, a Possum Carcass Growing Wildflowers
Were the ants touring the stadium of bones, or were they waging another kind of service? Claiming a new space for shadows in the territory of daylight, the ribs’ coliseum must have looked like proof of someone else’s country. We’re hungry tourists who love a ruined structure, count the ways time pummels sturdy columns. Who hasn’t trespassed on the dead and felt we are home wherever new color fought to bloom?
Bryce Emley’s poetry and nonfiction can be found in Narrative, Boston Review, Best American Experimental Writing 2015, december, Prairie Schooner, and others. He is a 2016 Edward F. Albee Foundation fellow, a 2016 Pablo Neruda Poetry Prize runner-up, and poetry editor of Raleigh Review.