in peoria

by camryn rose

the sun bobs at the horizon
where blue rivers and winding roads
are the only connection to anywhere 

you’re standing too close to a lit house
which could be hers —  is it hers? — 
and through blue windows you watch

the evening news, your face reflected in the anchor’s,
a pain like the touch of ice splaying over glass
why don’t you come back home where

the people who care are waiting,
where you’re free from the shadows,
where you’re free from the frigid blue depths?

why don’t you follow a river or route 94, 70, 20…?
why don’t you set like the moon and
bob on the horizon like the rising sun you are?

look — the meadow is a mirror full of you,
your reflection repeating in wild yellow —
goldenrod, come home

—  inspired by Maggie Smith’s Goldenrod

Em Blackwelder, who writes under the pseudonym camryn rose, is a student at Salem State University studying Creative Writing. They have published a short story in Under The Madness Magazine as well as poems in Soundings East and Red Skies Magazine.