Quaint is the earth now past her middle age—
soft silver forests—with her grey ironed
domes, her continental drifts, the blue-green stage
for children no more. Daily, we’re to tend
her flowers, so as not to hasten the end
of her years rocking cribs, washing out stains,
humanizing. Quaint are the earth’s remains
peeking through: a hollow purse (no wallet)—
wedding ring, handkerchief, stole—which explains
absence as nest, our seeds reeling toward it.
Sofia Starnes served as Virginia Poet Laureate from 2012 to 2014 and is the author of six poetry collections, most recently The Consequence of Moonlight (Paraclete Press, 2018). She has received a Poetry Fellowship from the Virginia Commission for the Arts, among other commendations, including five Pushcart Prize nominations. From 2007 to 2019, she served as Poetry Editor and Poetry Book Review Editor for The Anglican Theological Review. Her most recent publication is a book translation, Unveiling Memories, Spain and the Hispanic Contribution to U.S. Independence (Iberdrola, 2019).
