I lived most of my life
near water and now I find
myself trapped inland.
I miss the ocean, but
even a waterfall would
do. All I want is that
ordinary thing we all
take for granted, pouring
from our pipes and
hoses and skies, no
matter how unasked
for from the perfect,
heavy clouds. Just
a shady spot where I
can hear the world
continuing to change,
move, be more beautiful,
more healing, more
life-affirming and even
more alive. Summer is here
now and so am I, among
the explosions of green
that wouldn’t exist without
all that roaring blue.
That silken moment
where I am submerged
lives in me, still.
I close my eyes
and breathe all that
water in.
Devon Bohm received her BA from Smith College and earned her MFA with a dual concentration in Poetry and Fiction from Fairfield University. After serving as Mason Road’s Editor-in-Chief, she worked as an adjunct professor of English. She was awarded the 2011 Hatfield Prize for Best Short Story, received an honorable mention in the 2020 L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest, and was longlisted for Wigleaf’s Top 50 Very Short Fictions 2021. Her work has also been featured in publications such as Labrys, the graveyard zine, horse egg literary, Necessary Fiction, Spry, and Sixfold, with more poetry forthcoming in Sunday Mornings at the River’s Covid anthology and Hole In The Head Review. Her first book of poetry is due out in November 2021 from Cornerstone Press. Follow her on Instagram (@devonpoem) or visit her website at http://www.devonbohm.com.
Eunoia Review 