Poems by Lauren Slaughter

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Ghost Forests

 “As sea levels rise so do ghost forests.”
                               ~The New York Times

by Lauren Slaughter

From Canary Fall 2020

Lauren lives at the southern terminus of the Appalachian Mountains. She washes her rust-red soles—stained by the iron ore dust of the Red Mountain Formation—in the headwaters of the Cahaba River.

Like bare hands
reaching

from below
the grave, these

once-magnificent
woods. Roots

that pulled
from this earth

are choked now
with salt water,

waters meant
for a life

of fish not
sunken seeds

and drowned
burrows. Cold

may no longer
come to this place

and yet the spine
shivers

to see branches
that could have

blessed shade
upon your

very own children
seem to keep reaching

for some
right word

in some right
language

human ears
can hear.

Listen. This
is the silence

of loss. Air
does not whisper

through leaves.
Air that touches

nothing

has nothing
to say.




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