Life and Then Some

A miasmatic vapor settles in,
fat with the breath of fully sated bats
resting after carpeting the cave floor.

It joins with the pregnant elderberry
ripe and nasty bending over the fence
for bickering birds as passersby recoil.

She has an air about her, the dead doe
bloating on the shoulder, slowly swelling
with the atmosphere of a rank planet.

And so with the mycorrhizal networks,
tendrils infiltrating the surface world,
needing only a flood of rain or tears.

Footsteps, hands, a turning head, or a song
would stay lost among savannah anthills
but for the same need, the same tiny seed.

Life and Then Some Banner Image

M.A. Schaffner

M.A. Schaffner

M. A. Schaffner has had poems published in Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, Agni, and elsewhere — most recently in Hermes, Modern Poetry Review, and Pennsylvania Review. Long-ago-published books include the poetry collection The Good Opinion of Squirrels and the novel War Boys. Schaffner spends most days in Arlington, Virginia juggling a Toshiba laptop and a Gillott 404.
M.A. Schaffner

Latest posts by M.A. Schaffner (see all)