Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Marking Time

by Susan McDonough-Hintz

11:01 a.m.
Goodbye filled our mouths and lingered,
diffuse on the tongues, swirling.

6:32 a.m.
This morning I reached for a
tube of toothpaste and my
neck hairs lifted like eyelids,
my nipples stiff as peaks, nostrils
flared by the sudden smell of you,
but you weren’t there.

6:41 a.m.
I was alarmed.
The light was changing.

8:26 p.m.
Halfway up the mountain
night falls. I dig my bed
in dirt, cover myself with leaves,
and sleep, awake unearthed and
well bruised. Jagged rocks,
out of my way.

4:44 a.m.
I am alive and all of you is surge. 
And the flash. 


  1. Evocative and emotive, your poem reminds me of "Sleeping in the Forest," by Mary Oliver, mixed with a memory of mine while traveling in England and getting locked out of a hostel with nothing but leaves and stars to cover me.
    ~ Richard Waring