Light Feast on the Olentangy

The river’s edge teems with leafy
groundcover, tiny forest
that steals the sound from our steps.

In its lushness, you stumble silently
in search of stems that glow. Soon
you turn toward me again, petals

starring your chin, stems in your hand
reduced to their centers—and really,
I can understand why you’d want

to consume their color, to get close
to that wild beauty, to know it
in a whole-bodied way. Later

when you lie on the grass, twigs
catching in your curls, I do the same:
watching you watch the branches

etch a web against the pale sky. At least,
this is what I think you see, but perhaps
it’s pinecones, or the wind, or something

unknowable in your growing mind.
In my own mind I wonder how we
got here, how once my body carried

yours, but now your wonder
enfolds us both, opens me up each
morning like a field feasting on light.

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Emily Patterson is the author of So Much Tending Remains (Kelsay Books, 2022). She received her B.A. in English from Ohio Wesleyan University, where she was awarded the Marie Drennan Prize for Poetry, and her M.A. in Education from The Ohio State University. Emily’s work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and appears in Rust and Moth, Minerva Rising Press, Sheila-Na-Gig, The Sunlight Press, Mom Egg Review, Literary Mama, and elsewhere.