Caris Reid
40 × 30 inches
Acrylic on Wood
2016.
by Megan Buchanan
new moon over wing mountain and i’m
driving towards it, towards the pink sunset
and jagged black outlines of ponderosas all along
the plateau, all up and over and down, black
against pink and my blue truck hums along
the yellowstripe road, camouflaged with the sky,
blue square of mirror and one blue eye. above me
first stars blink in the rainbow sherbet sunset.
driving home singing towards wing mountain,
towards my house leaning back green against
ponderosas in their volcanic bed with
hummingbird visitors taking last sips before
flying back to cacti in bisbee. new moon over
wing mountain, this babyblue pickup passing last
latesummer grasses and dandelions, new
slivermoon low over wing mountain, ahead the
ribboned sunset, white wisp of new moon caught
in the weft and sentences of clouds written
overhead, yes.
Poet, performer, and teacher Megan Buchanan lives in southern Vermont with her two children, where she teaches high school humanities to teen mothers. Her poems have appeared recently in a 2016 anthology called “Dream Closet: Meditations on Childhood Space” (Secretary Press, NYC),The Sun Magazine, make/shift, The San Pedro River Review, lines+stars, The Collared Peccary, and an anthology called “Eating Her Wedding Dress” (Ragged Sky Press, Princeton).
Caris Reid is a painter based in Brooklyn. Her paintings explore the intersection of the physical and spiritual worlds using symmetry, bold planes of color, and a visual cadence of symbols both common and esoteric. She has exhibited work at Denny Gallery and Longhouse Projects in New York, among others, and attended residencies in Texas and Berlin.
This poem originally appeared in the Wild issue. For more inspiring poems and stories by women, check out Divya Victor’s “This Whiteness is Bob Saget” and our poetry section.