Jeri Theriault

LANDSCAPE WITH TURTLE

I find a box turtle’s bottom shell     
one edge jagged like tiny teeth  
the other curved amid stones 
in the dried-up creek bed.
my mother loved such leavings
feathers    shells  the peaty scent 
of earth—so close to human 
this leftover matter—this humus.
if I could     I’d bury her again
among tree-roots
her slow-good rot        the weft
to vixen-crow-turtle    warp     
all binding  & becoming earth.

Jeri Theriault’s collections include Radost, my red and the award-winning In the Museum of Surrender. Her poems and reviews have appeared in journals such as: The American Journal of Poetry, The Rumpus, Rhino and The Collagist. A 2019 Maine Literary Award winner, Jeri lives in South Portland, ME. www.jeritheriault.com