by Jennifer Markell

‍ ‍Petrified Forest, Arizona‍ ‍


In the dawn of the dinosaurs, a conifer topples,
is captured by a river, smothered in mud
for two hundred million years
and then returned to land, its core
transformed to stone, heartwood turned opal and jasper.

The shape of the tree remains, like the armature
of a sculpture, or the bone
structure of a familiar face—your first love,
the cherished cat who sits on your shoulder and watches
the computer’s cursor twitch like a whisker,
and stares out the window at a kingbird

without considering the broom of time that
sweeps every living thing
away, and returns us to the earth, where we imagine
ourselves a raindrop, wave of grass or
gust of wind arranging the blue mesa.

_________________________________________________________

Jennifer Markell’s first poetry collection, Samsara (Turning Point), was named a "Must Read" by the Massachusetts Book Awards in 2015. Her second collection, Singing at High Altitude, was published in 2021 by Main Street Rag. Jennifer’s poems have been published in The Bitter Oleander, Cimarron Review, Consequence, Diode, RHINO, and The Women's Review of Books. She works as a psychotherapist and lives in the Boston area with her husband and two securely-attached cats.

by Jennifer Markell

It's #tbt! Enjoy this great one from SWWIMEvery Day's archives!

____________________________________________________________

It isn’t green at all, this suit
you call Dress Greens,
not the color of living things
but what remains when a river
of ice is drained. You align
your shirt buttons with the front
fly seam, straight gig line
with the belt buckle’s edge.
Pin a grenade to your lapel,
sallow eagle, frozen in flight.
Turning to face the mirror,
you catch your reflection taking aim.

____________________________________________________________

Jennifer Markell’s first poetry collection, Samsara (Turning Point, 2014) was named a "Must Read Book" by the Massachusetts Book Awards. Her second collection, Singing at High Altitude, was published in 2022 by The Main Street Rag. She has received awards from the Chester H. Jones Foundation, The Comstock Review, The New England Poetry Club, and the Rita Dove Prize in Poetry (Finalist, International Literary Awards.) Her poems have been included in numerous publications, including The Bitter Oleander, Consequence, Diode, RHINO, Storm Cellar, and The Women's Review of Books.

by Jennifer Markell

It isn’t green at all, this suit

you call Dress Greens,

not the color of living things

but what remains when a river

of ice is drained. You align

your shirt buttons with the front

fly seam, straight gig line

with the belt buckle’s edge.

Pin a grenade to your lapel,

sallow eagle, frozen in flight.

Turning to face the mirror,

you catch your reflection taking aim.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jennifer Markell's poetry collection, Samsara (Turning Point, 2014) was named a “Must Read Book of Poetry” by the Massachusetts Book Awards, 2015. Recent honors include the Firman Houghton award from the New England Poetry Club and Finalist for the Rita Dove Prize in Poetry (International Literary Awards, 2016). Her work has appeared in publications including Consequence, Gulf Stream, RHINO, Tinderbox, and The Women’s Review of Books. A psychotherapist, Jennifer's interested in therapeutic uses of writing.