• Natalie Homer

Dispatch On the Day of a Friend’s Death

The day you died, I kept looking for you

in every natural thing. The begonia

on your now-empty porch; the fat bees

hovering in the air between the church

and your apartment—maybe right at the height

you fell from. Could this be you—broken

into individual hovering pieces?

Outside my office window: a doe

pulling, with ravenous hunger (it seemed),

at low-hanging leaves, drizzled in spring rain.

Elizabeth, I thought, is that you?

I kept expecting your ghost to tap my shoulder,

the chimes to clink their metallic tinkle

when there was no wind, the blue jay to call to me

a coded message. But there was nothing.

Natalie Homer's recent poetry has been published in The Cincinnati Review, The Boiler, Berkeley Poetry Review, Meridian, Barnstorm, The Carolina Quarterly, and others. She received an MFA from West Virginia University and lives in southwestern Pennsylvania. Her first collection, Under the Broom Tree, is forthcoming from Autumn House Press.

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