Labor Day Weekend

I will fold these small burnings

to store in my pockets for later. Evenings spent

hiking solo, creating

careful logs of my gratitudes—building block

lists, writing hand cramping,

exhausting a single

black pen—hungry

to centralize my energy, to see

paths through to their dry ends.


Amber summer, landscape

where I reconfigured

prayers—not as one-way whispers,

but ripples, gold

momentum gaining

so that what manifests is not myself

at an epicenter,

but as one.

by connor-elaine

Connor Poff is a poet living in Ohio. In 2020, she earned an MFA in Creative Writing from Minnesota State University, Mankato, and before that a BA in English from The Ohio State University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Wax Paper, Appalachian Heritage, Volney Road Review, and others.

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