Norah Esty

STILL LIFE WITHOUT APPLE

I tell you how
the last thing I clicked
was tongue 
against teeth— 

how I run my finger down glass

only to form 
the names of the gods
in condensation— 

or to trace 
the silhouette of mountains.

In trade for disconnection,
I took what 
quake-turned earth,
heaving,
offered:

that the crickets I hear
shall be crickets;

that the lapis which 
entraps me

shall be sky.

Norah Esty grew up in Montana. She earned a B.S. in mathematics from MSU at age 17 and a Ph.D. from U.C. Berkeley at 24. She studied topological dynamics, co-authored a textbook, and won teaching awards. She now lives off-grid in Oregon, writing poetry, raising sheep, and trying to learn Icelandic. Her poetry has appeared in Camas and Light.