Magic Hours Poem by Mariah Srygler

America is one great &

jaded lake.



Pulse: a poorly tuned guitar, while love

is thick. Slow smoke.



Good feeling, you breathe

in the knobbiness of

knees.



Hush recalls the braiding

of daisies – sweetness, you wear

a diadem of flowers.



Liquor goes quicker, and who knows

what music sings in

undiscovered places.



The yawning v’s of geese.



Some long hair waves goodbye

to the mistress Wind.