After Melinda Matyas' Creating stories out of mud and water, by Angelie Roche

The forest I've lost with my childhood, by Melinda Matyas (England, b, Romania) 2020. Click on the image for artist site.

​The forest I’ve lost with my childhood

you: fading/ you: memory/ you: no longer me
you: child/ you: careless/ torn dress & bruised knees

you: lost in the forest/ you: rejecting paths
you: digging up beetles/ you: failing at math

you: believer in god/ you: cursing his name
you: praying he’ll one day absolve your deep shame

& now you’ve become me, or i’ve grown from you
like a weed from a tree stump, so stubbornly new

i’ve abandoned your backyard, your childhood home
i've moved to a city with forests unknown

& yet i still feel you (you: spectre/ you: ruse)
fingerpainting my memory (you: artist/ you: muse)

with each new brush-stroke, you dampen & blur
the woods of my past (willow oak/ douglas fir)

where were those trees? those paths i once knew?
i’m not sure/ i can’t find them/ they’re lost/ so are you

Cat with a red stripe, by Melinda Matyas (England, b. Romania) 2020

​Cat with a red stripe

once-wild thing, once-tiger
stretching in carpeted sun-patches
& gazing through glass at unattainable sparrows,

where is your hunt? 
raised on kibble & neck scratches, 
named in a different language & loved, 

in dreams you’re running – where?
 underneath couches, out of door-cracks, 
up suburban trees? 

have you forgotten 
the antelope, the savannah, evolution’s 
slow fade?        little lion.

if i were to let you go– let you slip
into wildness– how far would you wander
through unfamiliar woods

before turning back
to our doorstep, mewling 
to be let in?

Sowing seeds in the dark, by Melinda Matyas (England, b. Romania) 2020

​Sowing seeds in the dark

when you lay dying, you’ll have forgotten this:
piles of unwashed plates, full inbox,
empty fridge, deep hunger. you’ll have forgotten
mirror, scale, self-loathing; in death there is
no self; in death, only body and earth.
what else could matter? 

still you insist: this matters. nothing could stop it from mattering–
not the cat mewling at your feet, not your empty stomach, not the forest 
waiting dark & lovely outside the sliding glass door. 

this matters, I know. tomorrow your computer will restart
and all will be saved. everyone in your inbox will be making breakfast
or tangled in bed with unnamed lovers, unencumbered by your late replies.
the dishes will sit in the sink, no dirtier than today. but today

is sacred: today your body, remembering death, aches for life.
let it tell you what it needs, and listen. stand up; take a walk
in the garden; look at the moon. then come inside
for midnight toast; come warm this body
that was always only yours. 
oh, baby. let yourself eat.

Creating stories out of mud & water, by Melinda Matyas (England, b. Romania) 2020

​Creating stories out of mud and water
you were there. maybe you’ve forgotten the forest but remember the trees/ forgotten the trees but remember the creek/ forgotten the creek but remember its clear water flowing silk-like from your fingertips/
remember your fingertips/ remember you were small once & unfettered by death & oh my god you were there/ in the forest i lost with my childhood/ you were there/ cat with a red stripe you/ were there sowing
​seeds in the dark/ creating stories out of mud & water/ inspiration you/ were there/ 
& there is no returning/ but you are here
now: naked. new stream. new body.
 bigger hands. same hands.
 same thirst. same water.
stop searching. cup your palm
& drink

Angelie Roche

Angelie Roche's work has been featured in the 3Elements Literary Review and AVATAR Literary magazine and shortlisted in The Masters Review. A native Delawarean and recent graduate of St. Mary's College of Maryland, Angelie plans to pursue a career in Couples and Family Therapy.