by Ethan Starr Evans

  • Poetry
decorative header image from Volume III Issue 1 · Fall 2016

I found myself wandering
the contours of your finger-
prints, ridges labyrinthian
curling in on themselves.

In the soil I found a door
carved from stone—a
staircase to the spaces
between your arteries.

I found sprigs of oak
poking through cellular
membrane; prairie
growing luminescent
across your skin.

Wasps sail from aster
to legume. Grasshoppers
start to mate and die.

The structures we create,
steadily dissipating into
your bloodstream.

Within openings in knobby
hills subterranean caverns
hold pools of water with
blind fish that dart
at every ripple.

I find you among them. Rootstalk leaf-bug icon marking the end of the article's text.

About Author Ethan Starr Evans
Portrait image of author Ethan Starr Evans.
Photo courtesy of Ethan Star Evans
Ethan Starr Evans is a second-year philosophy major at Grinnell College. His studies revolve around the intersection between written word and visual image, the notion of the self within society, and environmental ethics. Ethan hails from Kentucky, but spends most of his time in Iowa, either in school or at Mustard Seed Community Farm, near Ames, Iowa.