Photo by Richard Sagredo on Unsplash
by Bethany Jarmul
I’m lying in my bed which is suspended in an oak tree, reading a book about nothing. Its empty pages are laborious reading, but I like busying my brain with blank thoughts. My neighbors, the blue jays, have gotten used to me here. They drop blueberries and worms into my open mouth. When I can’t sleep because the moon is too full of bruises and the stars are brawling again, momma blue jay sings to me. Then I forget how I came to be and the place from before the trees.
Bethany Jarmul is an Appalachian poet and author. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature and Best Small Fictions. More at bethanyjarmul.com or @BethanyJarmul.
