Issue 4
By Nicole Shepherd
After the Fever
Lilies knowingly nodding,
gossiping from a glass in the sink,
perfume exorcising the ghost
of stale bile and sweat
that lingers post-illness.
Strange, being held on my own,
rather than by indentions on the couch.
Muscles slack
like clothes on the line.
There’s a pair of shoes by the door,
waiting to support my spine.
The weight and teeth
of keys warmed by my hand.
Dandelion air
is already flooding
past the doorknob.
Nicole Shepherd: Nicole Shepherd is an Appalachian poet living in Chicago. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Maudlin House, Corporeal Lit, The Orange Rose Literary Magazine, and If You Ever: Poems Inspired by Kim Addonizio. She writes about the things that are hard but important to say, and the tender resilience of ordinary life.