Amelia Van Donsel
August Complex Fire
Until he coaxes
the breath, the
not beloved, away, I am
wanting, holding his blood in my arms.
And I read on
the venomous periphery of California, where
my father dies and dies, flattening
out his forehead until it is a
penny.
What does he weigh, East Bay
Hills, Globe Rock? His weight is smoke.
Copper coils around his house,
and the sleeve and beard are similar and frightened by their own edges.
The blaze progresses
against him as though his living
were scratched into the heat
of his sweaters, casting only
their poor muslin shadows.
Amelia Van Donsel is a poet from Waltham, Massachusetts and a 2021 graduate of Bard College. She has spent this past year working with poets Jenny Xie and Ann Lauterbach to complete her collection PLEASE STAND BACK. Her most recent work can be found in FENCE.