Jennifer Garfield
ghazal for the meadow of my heart
forgive me: this morning i walked through a meadow
damp and buzzing. i thought, what of the meadow
of my heart? even i can barely stomach it. like a poem
about childbirth and vernix. forgive the mother brain meadowed
by constant tenderness. being a poet is so embarrassing.
having a body that screams, i have a cervix like a meadow
freshly seeded! i write the sappiest couplets,
so cringe i could die. and the child, meadow-
sweet, is light as a lark in my arms. exposed.
elemental. remember the cows are in the meadow
eating buttercups is about smallpox. i am sobered.
leaking milk. fear unfolds like a meadow
and i am lost in its ruddy reeds. the child
delicate as foxglove. i want to return to the meadow
of not knowing. the cowslip’s stupor so sweet
and mellow. forgive the innocent meadow
and all it cannot promise. fold like a glove
in a drawer. we must allow it. the meadow
of birds singing the prelude of our hearts. nervous
system slack in the dew-eyed meadow.
permission to praise the child and wild pasture
that named him. my heart vast and intelligent as a meadow.
Jennifer Garfield’s poetry has appeared in journals including The Threepenny Review, ONE ART, and Frontier. Her awards include multiple Pushcart Prize nominations, an Illinois Arts Council Literary Grant, a Martha’s Vineyard Institute for Creative Writing Fellowship, a Renaissance House Residency, and the 2024 Samuel Washington Allen Prize.