when you are trapped in the neon city
remember the afternoon in the upper midwest, when the light was gray and sleek as sealskin. the rural highway through a familiar infinity of conifer forest in Michigan’s northern reaches. the dirt road turnoff. the ground, still gentle from this morning’s rain; the unexpected give of it beneath your feet. a pilgrimage. the clearing where you traced the bark’s ridges and furrows, where hemlock sap made its way through the soft yielding pads of your fingers and into your blood. even now the sap rolls through the four-chambered house of your heart, sluggish and golden and sweet.
Eleri Denham writes fiction, nonfiction, and screenplays. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Orca, Capsule Stories, Central Oregon Book Project, Whale Road Review, Little Patuxent Review, and elsewhere. Originally from Chicago, Eleri now lives in Oregon, USA. Find them on Twitter @eleri_denham or at www.eleridenham.com.