to be buried, to start our lives in dirt
with light filtering through in bits
or not at all. once
we are planted there
then we will break our hulls
and send out first green shoots,
a leaf, our first pale roots.
some of us lifted once
into the air
on silvery threads made for floating
and traveling, found
a place to fall down to,
a place to grow on earth.
sometimes we wait a long time
for rain, for heavy spring waters
to drain enough. sometimes
we are so close to the end
that we put our new
green stems on the ground,
wilted, and our recovery waits
for another day.
Author Bio:
Gigi Marks lives in Ithaca, New York. Her poetry has appeared in many publications, including American Poets Against the War, The Atlanta Review, Best American Poetry, Green Mountains Review, Lilith, North American Poetry Review, Northwest Review, Poetry, Poetry Daily, Prairie Schooner, Southern Poetry Review, and others. Her first chapbook, What We Need, was published by Shortline Editions. A second chapbook of her poems, Shelter, was published by Autumn House Press in 2011. Most recently, her collection of poems Close By was published by Silverfish Review Press in Spring 2012. Close By was nominated for the National Books Critic Circle Award in Poetry in 2012. Recent poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Poetry for 2013.