Maryann Hurtt
she likes to remember
how her father collectedgnawed wood chips
brought them home in threadbare pockets
and how holding them
meant connection to a world
so different than her own
fifty years later
a tooth-marked stick-cane waits
for the old man
who dreams muscled legs
memories of beavers
but grateful
for these few steps
across the street
where maybe the mailbox will hold
a postcard
from his wandering daughter
who learned early
how to conjure wild and beauty
Maryann Hurtt lives in Wisconsin’s Kettle Moraine. On good days, her muse chases her down the Ice Age Trail. Aldrich Press published River in 2016. For more poetry and news, see maryannhurtt.com.
Portage Magazine 