in afterdark we crawl.
cold bee buzz and rotting staircase.
we catalogue extinction and collapse.
the sky grows flatter, whiter,
dwindles into river.
knotty ropes of stars slope downwards.
lanterns slice through sooty caves.
from the bleak half songs rise;
gleams of bitter garland trees.
we forget the names of flowers. we re-name them in their languages.
Tara Roeder teaches writing in Queens, New York. Her poetry and prose have appeared in multiple journals. Her most recent chapbooks are Every Bird Is A Miracle, a collaboration with visual artist Arman Safa (New Michigan Press) and Panic Dance (dancing girl press).