Close Menu
  • Home
    • About
    • Masthead
    • Links
  • MER Journal
    • Latest Issue
    • Back Issues
    • Subscribe to MER!
  • MER ONLINE
    • MER Quarterly
    • MER Literary Folios
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • Creative Prose
    • Essay
    • Craft
    • Interviews
    • Book Reviews
      • Bookshelf
    • Authors’ Notes
    • Art Gallery
      • Special – Hybrids
  • News & Events
    • News
    • Poem of the Month
    • Events
      • MER 18 Virtual Reading – Voices From HOME
    • Currents
      • Announcements
      • Highlights
  • Shop
    • All Issues
    • One Year Subscription
    • Two Year Subscription
  • Submit
Facebook X (Twitter) Instagram
MER – Mom Egg Review
Facebook X (Twitter) Instagram YouTube Tumblr Threads
  • Home
    • About
    • Masthead
    • Links
  • MER Journal
    • Latest Issue
    • Back Issues
    • Subscribe to MER!
  • MER ONLINE
    • MER Quarterly
    • MER Literary Folios
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • Creative Prose
    • Essay
    • Craft
    • Interviews
    • Book Reviews
      • Bookshelf
    • Authors’ Notes
    • Art Gallery
      • Special – Hybrids
  • News & Events
    • News
    • Poem of the Month
    • Events
      • MER 18 Virtual Reading – Voices From HOME
    • Currents
      • Announcements
      • Highlights
  • Shop
    • All Issues
    • One Year Subscription
    • Two Year Subscription
  • Submit
NEWSLETTER
MER – Mom Egg Review
You are at:Home » Lament of the Swamp Hag by Wendy Barnes

Lament of the Swamp Hag by Wendy Barnes

0
By Mom Egg Review on April 7, 2016 Poetry

Wendy Barnes

Lament of the Swamp Hag

 

I am not your paramour
but made of your leavings,
moss-haired, cypress-limbed and guts

of chum and dogwood-chunked loam.
This season turns you toward your fear,
churning storms and waterspouts,

the livid ocean squalls
and dumps its entrails on the delta.
I can read its plastic, glass, hubcaps,

your errata spelling forth a ruptured past
and a future we fall though
and keep falling.

I am the bog, the swamp, the marais,
its big, meaty maw, selfsame. My nether
aching never was for you

nor tame, a kitchen garden
waiting to oblige, its stick deep,
even furrows.

 

{http://www.pw.org/content/wendy_barnes}

 

Share. Facebook Twitter Pinterest LinkedIn Tumblr Email
Previous Articlefrom A Library of Light by Danielle Vogel
Next Article Miraculous Fishes by Betsy Fagin
Leave A Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

September 28, 2025

In Loving Memory of Jennifer Martelli

September 25, 2025

MER Poem of the Month – October 2025

September 25, 2025

MER Announces Nominations for Best of the Net 2026

September 18, 2025

Interview: Jennifer Jean and Mojdeh Bahar on New Books of Poetry in Translation

September 17, 2025

MER Bookshelf – September 2025

September 17, 2025

SLIP by Nicole Callihan

September 17, 2025

& You Think It Ends by Amy Small-McKinney

September 17, 2025

Immigrant Hearts by Catherine Gigante-Brown

September 17, 2025

My Little Book of Domestic Anxieties by Elizabeth Sylvia

September 17, 2025

Flood by Christine Kalafus

Facebook X (Twitter) Instagram YouTube Tumblr Threads
  • About
  • Advertise
  • Submit
  • Contact
MER - Mom Egg Review
PO Box 9037, Bardonia, NY 10954
Contact [email protected]

Copyright © 2025 MER and Mom Egg Review

Type above and press Enter to search. Press Esc to cancel.