Organizing contexts into the latent and the profane.
Across the clearing elk lean against each other.
When I was a kid I didn’t think about where my food came from.
Orion was the only constellation I could name.
My eyes closed on long rides in the car seat. I dreamed I
could be from another planet.
A planet where all four seasons happen in a day.
I could be dead wrong about so many things.
I saw a turtle cross the street and a duck bop underwater.
These things are certain.
Even the things we didn’t name,
those are certain.
Andrew Hutto is originally from north Georgia but currently writes out of Kentucky. He recently graduated from the University of Louisville with a Bachelor’s degree in English and a minor in Philosophy. His sonnet was selected for the Hands and Feet Poetry Derby at Churchill Downs. In the summer of 2019, he served as a preliminary judge for the Louisville Literary Arts Writer’s Block fiction prize. His poetry appears in THRUSH Poetry Journal and is forthcoming in BARNHOUSE.
Eunoia Review 