IT’S RAINING TODAY
Jo Clark
So, the crepe myrtles have bowed
their heads in prayer.
Heady flora, pink and divine,
they reach for spider webs,
which wisp around liriope
blooms, spiral steps
curling heavenward.
In this forest that grew me,
fallen trees lean into
crucifixes.
They cross themselves,
soaked and wanting,
in that holy water—
acid rain in Appalachia
is as common as a kiss
to the forehead, here
beneath the aphid
torn leaves,
that holy wind
whispers through
holy woods,
waltzes through
hallowed ground,
seeps into earth,
says—
here is the forest
where girls frolic,
here is the place
where girls
with wet hair are made.
Jo Clark is a student, poet, and journalist born and raised in the Blue Ridge Mountains. She is currently pursuing a double major in poetry composition and Medieval and Renaissance literature at the University of Virginia. She is the poetry curator for V-Magazine at UVA and a senior writer for The Cavalier Daily. She has been published in The Stardust Review and Prospectus: A Literary Offering. She has work forthcoming in Q* Anthology. She hopes to one day release a full-length collection of poetry.
