Off for long drive or a smoke, up

and out the door where you leave me

seeking, lonely for a spot

soft but not

spoiled, not fuzz

of unseemly growth, not brat

like catlike laze the lack

of work. No. Less a

push than a pull and road

-weary doesn’t count, I said



Soft is not puffed

up tough to escort me home

after I close the store each

night alone, menacing to scare

off possible predators in the dark. (There’s

tenderness there, sure,

and I know how

hard you work, could work

for me.)


I don’t mean shoulder torn from

shoveling snow; I do not

mean the ways a body goes

weak with time, with age, with

-out assent, like how you cannot

carry a tune, no use in battling

the stream. Like how we wilt. We

will but in the time until, give

me lush-spots scared-and-sacred spots miss-

me-on-that-shift walked-away-but-still-

smelled-me thoughts I want will drink it up.






Laura Eppinger graduated from Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA in 2008 with a degree in Journalism, and she’s been writing creatively ever since. She’s the blog editor at Newfound Journal. Her full publication list lives here: http://lolionthekaap.blogspot.com/p/creative-writing.html