Excerpt from Where We Live by Amy Small-Mckinney


The following poem appears in our Fall 2015 Print Issue.

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Home is not where I live,
it is sleeve of a daughter,
hands and green shingles.

Where I do live,
what I can give to you, to myself,
not home exactly,
what remains, beneath the casing.

Each layer whiter than the last.
And the teal door opens
into a room with a fireplace,
you wait.

This is home. If it is not,
I stoke the fire, listen to the perfect noise
of flightless birds.

amy-small-mckinneyAMY SMALL-MCKINNEY is the author of a collection of poems, Life is Perfect (BookArts Press, 2014) and two chapbooks of poetry, Body of Surrender (2004) and Clear Moon, Frost (2009), both with Finishing Line Press. She was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals, for example, American Poetry Review, The Cortland Review, The Pedestal Magazine, upstreet, Blue Fifth Review, and the Main Street Rag anthology, Voices from the Porch.

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