SUMMER BACK IN OHIO

Like the cicada,
I, too, am unable
to resist 
the need to crawl
from the depths
of one world 
into another.

A memory 
deep and unnamed
twitches me 
into movement,
and, 
when memories of that world
emerge, 

I do too,
quivering more audibly 
than I thought myself capable,

incapable of resting
the wings of my yesterdays.

Jackie McClure writes poetry and fiction aiming to illuminate commonplace segments of our shared landscapes. She would almost always rather be swimming but when rooted on land she can often be found walking the hills and shores of the Cascadia bioregion in the northwest corner of Washington State. Her poetry has been published in a variety of anthologies and literary journals, including Humana Obscura, Penumbra, Wild Roof Journal, The Nature Of Our Times, Split Rock Review and on her Substack site, Pouring Word Tea. She holds an M.F.A. in writing from Goddard College and retired from a career working with interdisciplinary programs in higher education.