The
Lily Crucifix (c1450)
Godshill Parish Church, Isle of Wight
Christ crucified on
his mother’s flower.
What is with you
until the end?
The crown of thorns
still visible.
The nimbus
slim as a stamen.
A flower holds Christ there.
Something holds you here.
The full moon rising.
The warm petal of your
dog’s tongue.
The pull of the waves.
Your child’s feet in them.
The flounder your love breads
and fries, apologizes over.
The lilies, the petals green
blades around you.
Mary’s flower is the most
dramatic in death,
staining the countertop gold.
You have not brought enough
days of Lexapro.
Your head hurts from the light.
Yellow Jessamine threads
the yard’s live oaks.
Swallows
after Vladimir Tolman
Their feet do not
touch the ground
They hover above
the grass
Their arms are
thrown up
Their heads bend
back
Their hair rises
behind
You cannot see
their faces
Their dresses
float in the air
What do you call a
woman who lifts like a bird?
You call her a
dancer
There is a moment
in any leap
when the effort
looks serene—
when it looks like
no work at all
Bird Song Sounds Out of Tune Only
to the Human Ear
in
the quiet between November and December,
a
white-throated sparrow sings
five
long notes
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
for
weeks I insist I hear an off-key bird,
stand
barefoot on the porch
of
my not-knowing
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Po-or Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody
sings
the sparrow, passerine toes
holding
the pine
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
even
when I did not know your name, sparrow,
I
knew your song, the particular way
you
break the silence
Han VanderHart is a queer writer living in Durham, North Carolina, under the pines. Their second poetry collection Larks, winner of the 2024 Hollis Summers Poetry Prize, is forthcoming in April 2025 from Ohio University Press. Han is also the author of What Pecan Light (Bull City Press, 2021) and has essays and poetry published in Kenyon Review, The American Poetry Review, The Rumpus, AGNI, and elsewhere. Han hosts Of Poetry Podcast and alongside Amorak Huey co-edits the poetry press River River Books.
