New Poetry by Lisa Stice: “Our Folklore”

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FIND MYSELF LOST / image by Amalie Flynn

Our Folklore

Long ago, you were molten rock, and I—
well, I spoke the language of bears.

But now that I have been out of the forest
for so long, all the words and grammar escape

me, and I often find myself lost. And you—
well, you are often mistaken for a statue

in this solid state. No more rumblings and
agitations. We are both quiet these days.

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Lisa Stice

Lisa Stice is a poet/mother/military spouse. She is the author of three full-length collections, Forces (Middle West Press, 2021), Permanent Change of Station (Middle West Press, 2018) and Uniform (Aldrich Press, 2016), and a chapbook, Desert (Prolific Press, 2018). While it is difficult to say where home is, she currently lives in North Carolina with her husband, daughter and dog. You can learn more about her and her publications at lisastice.wordpress.com, at facebook.com/LisaSticePoet, and on Twitter @LisaSticePoet

3 Comments
  1. There’s a strange coupling here of natures denaturing, a kinship of loss and transformation leading to silence. Companionable silence? Folklore in the title saves this from bleak stasis. Both halves of the portmanteau word dredge in culture, accumulation, community. Like halves in a marriage, knowing each other’s histories, knowing the companionable wreckage beside us remembers how to seethe. And so I’m grateful for “Our.” The poem’s speaker owns this scenario, and so I feel welcomed in it. Thanks, Lisa!

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