craobhan measan


We speak of

river, the birth of

silt, a small


wanting / grief is

water memory / it whistles

across the hinterland

& marries

the human cheek


I like to imagine

that we are

fruit trees / barked beings


palms, an archive of

flesh, animal

language / the earth is

feeding us / whittling suns

into our

fingerlines / & then

a child

appears: great swathes of

skin / warmth

pocketed under

curls, smiles / joy

like an



Let me begin

with a simple

truth: the hurt sat

in her hands / mountained

across a human

chest / hills of

hip, womb

sand, more petal than

promise / body

like a


singing / & is she not supposed

to see river

here: / limbed

wildlife, herds of

anchorage, deer

choosing the wind to

mother / their whiskers folded

towards each

other / rhyme people

with place, earth says,

chest with

heart, & we will

arrive at

You —

Eartha (@eartha_davis_) wishes to live gently, kindly, & most certainly by a river. She placed second in the 2022 Global Woorilla Poetry Prize Youth Section & has been nominated for Best of the Net, with work published or forthcoming in Wildness, Frozen Sea, Minarets, South Florida Poetry Journal, JMWW, Arboreal Magazine, ELJ Editions, the Stirling Review, Sour Cherry Magazine, Revolute, & Eunoia Review, among others. She is a poetry editor at three journals & dreams of birds.