Bury Our Heart
Like every other, this is the year of shifting sorrows, the thin shadows of land that slip from countries we've left for fear or want of finding ourselves in a handful of dirt. Even in sleep, a warm wonder of birth and loss, there too the earth's vibrations, the leveling of cliffs in eyes we claim. The soul is the land liquid in the lines of veins that stripe the inner atlas. It bubbles and flows, smoothes the rough roads, carves out our caves of refuge, our weeping echoes. Here too, they will find us the outcasts, the fugitives, the lost, the abandoned, the running-for-our-lives. Oh homeland of sadness, these dusty bones that could not save. I have held in my clay hands, the fine grains of his blood, bold in my muddy palms; I have held in my earthen arms the jagged pot of his pain, brimming and bitter. I have waited for that open mouth of the world to lay him down. Marjorie Maddox Artist, activist, and retired Pennsylvania College of Technology professor Karen Elias' photograph Fractured Heart and Marjorie Maddox's poem "Bury Our Heart" are part of a collaborative series by artist and poet to be exhibited March 22—April 13, 2019, at The Station Gallery, Lock Haven, PA. The poem appears in Maddox's re-released collection Transplant, Transport, Transubstantiation (Wipf & Stock, 2018), which chronicles her father's unsuccessful heart transplant during the Blizzard of ’93. The book won the Yellowglen prize and was one of three finalists for the Brittingham and Felix Pollak book awards. Maddox has published 11 collections of poetry, a short story collection, and several children's books. For more information, please see www.marjoriemaddox.com
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January 2025
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