Ashley Steineger

Grief Poem while Hiking

I’ll call you long black snake swimming in the clear stream    I’ll call you violent
      mercy and god          I’ll call you man with dog disappears
            behind a rhododendron        snapped twig under hiking boot              
weight in chest         monarchs flitting over campfire ashes                     
                I’ll call you like I didn’t call you last week last month
one hundred ripping echoes into cave’s mouth       cobwebs on bridge of nose
        hushed path of tears           I’ll call you poplar blossom ringed in orange    
  maze of ants through pine needles       mountain laurel flushed with sunrise          
bitter throat of guilt      I’ll call you thrum of wood thrush      screech of catbird   
             spotted fawn in the underbrush        dandelions in field clearing
        I’ll call you carpet of running cedars       hum of love song
                 sun dimmed by tree canopy    memory burning on dry tongue
         I’ll call you deserted cove           restless shadow of everything   every
thing         I’ll call you forgiven
                    Friend I’m calling you     do you hear me      is that you

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Ashley Steineger is a freelance writer and psychologist based in Raleigh, NC. She received her MFA from Queen’s University. Her poetry has appeared in Mohave Heart, Tiny Spoon, Silver Birch Press, The Mantle and Life in Ten Minutes. Ashley loves tattoos, hiking, and avoiding small talk.