2 Poems by Devon Balwit

Hello / It’s Me Again

I
it’s morning and I must
stitch myself back
together

II
easiest to grab what
remains from the
day before

III
one sleeve then the other
no surprises
all well worn

IV
the mirror helps me thread
face to face lines
familiar

V
I open the door to
memories in
they tumble

VI
that I invent a few
shouldn’t offend
it helps me

VII
as the new day buffets
tugs at the seams
of selfhood

VIII
I reassure myself
of who I am
through each poem


What Floats

It’s the time of year
            when small ants

invade the cupboards,
            marching from outside

in files as if underscoring
            the encroaching weather.

All night, rain
            burbles in the gutters,

rustling as it falls
            with TV static.

I expect to step from bed
            into knee-deep water,

but the only pool
            is in my head,

a catchment of decades,
            ever-rising.

Some days, I fish out
            the dead, others,

whatever floats
            from watery darkness,

wrung from the world
            by its turning.


Bionote

Devon Balwit is a poet writing in Portland, OR.  Her recent work has appeared in many journals, among them:  The Journal of Applied Poetics, Red Paint Review, The Serving House, Timberline Review, The Sow's Ear Poetry Review, Lalitamba, and the Free State Review.