My face slants toward the afternoon sun, as if I were a plant kept too long in a dark corner. Pine needles on the ground give off the smell of the sun’s warmth. Two hawks circle above the evergreens, in the open sky. I’m greedy for sunlight. Today I could survive on light alone.
Published by Christine
Christine Swint’s poems have appeared in Calyx, Birmingham Poetry Review, Slant, a Journal of Poetry, Tampa Review, Heron Tree, Ekphrasis, and others. Her poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best New Poets, and she has won first place prizes from the Georgia Poetry Society and Agnes Scott College. Her first collection, Swimming This, was published in 2015 by FutureCycle Press. She teaches first-year composition at a metro-Atlanta university and writes about poetry, art, hiking, and yoga at Balanced on the Edge, https://balancedonedge.blog Twitter @christine_swint View all posts by Christine