A Common Starling Smashed Against the Pavement

This is how the day begins,

my tires turning against the black spine of the mountain

road. Each bend comes like first flight:

naturally, until not. I am always returning to find

tree blight and flooded homes. 

Saplings bow beneath the weight

of water.

Pines huddle together in groups—woven groves

of headstones.

Pillars of distant smoke bleed the sky grey

behind the pulp mill.

On a morning like this, the mist settles itself

into the ridges to rest.

From many miles out you can still smell

sulfur and tree rot.

I drive until the only scent left is wet earth. When I dream

of home,

this is where I go.

Alissa M. Barr is a critical care nurse and writer currently living in Aurora, Colorado. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Crab Creek Review and Salt Hill Journal.