This poem was written collectively by 16 participants of the Embodied Writing class held at Art Access Gallery on April 4th, 2016. We loosely employed a method inspired by the Japaneese form of Renku.

There is room for you
where I once grew honeysuckle
and sipped from the stems

the air is still.

I will miss the unborn
apricots this summer
roots of the tree in me
my green heart aches with songs.

Rooted in this life so deeply how do I brave the change?

next to my white paper cup
a blackbird of spattered paint
looks up at the wooden beams

nebulae burst
I may never have children
electricity enchants me

paint spilled everywhere
evidence everywhere
time marching past
I obsess over lost
and found

they have a purpose
like flying buttresses
these porous ivory ribs

she moves freely
under the gaping archway
my closed throat aches

bodies crave touch
soft and warm
opening
my mind is freed
the wind has done its job

when you come home
open the patio door,
I’ll be listening still.