A woman walks into the woods—seeking strength
and she finds a metaphor in the woods
a brown twig snaps, motes dance
dead things give way to new now
never—not—husk or shell she’ll
stretch so far that she can forget
what’s outside the forest.
Forage as winged things flutter
remember she used to believe in fairies
finds that even the smallest stings are still
so much better than being the brown
twig snapping from too much pressure
and not enough sunlight. Recall she is a tree
with deep roots, providing canopy for seeds
that will grow in her protective shade.
Angelique Zobitz (she/her/hers) is the author of the chapbooks Burn Down Your House from Milk & Cake Press and Love Letters to The Revolution from American Poetry Journal. She is a 2022-2023 Jake Adam York Prize finalist, multi-nominated for the Best of the Net, Best New Poets, and the Pushcart Prize. Her work appears in Mom Egg Review, The Journal, Sugar House Review, Obsidian: Literature & Arts of the African Diaspora, The Adirondack Review, ANMLY and many others. She can be found at www.angeliquezobitz.com and on Twitter and Instagram: @angeliquezobitz