What Edith Knows
A Poem
Published in
1 min readAug 12, 2019
She scraped against solid walls
Her water-fed ribs —
shed flakes of soft stone
In a pie she baked
she slid a pair of scissors
Edith knows
blood in the mouth
is its safest place to be
She handled glasses
with special care, moving
her fingers on the rim
like calling a séance
Her slithering arms
folded broken teeth
in a bread-dough with
brown seeds
Edith knows
burying bone
always needs
wholesome —
warm casing
She cut strands of wool
like she were pruning the world
Between folds of new leaves
She left ashes of him
Edith knows
plants don’t die
and demand rituals
like humans do
~
From the series Edith. Will (probably) make more sense if you read the poem below
Inspired by/ Dedicated to Edith Stoner from the book Stoner by John Williams
