sudasi j. clement
by Best Poem
fawn-colored coin just below the left breast,
just above the seventh rib
is the mark of our tribe, descended
from wolves and witches.
it’s a third eye through which to see
the doe’s heartbeat moments before she
steps into a clearing,
a button we press to translate
bird tracks on snow
into memory of flight.
rose-brown o is an ancient cell
dreaming us back onto ocean floor,
sunlight through a hole in the ice above us,
the passage we swam from water to land.
it’s a nest or the door to a den or a mouth;
the first note of a howl
if one of us should leave the other.
sudasi j. clement lives in the high desert and currently serves as the poetry editor for the Santa Fe Literary Review. Her work has recently appeared in Nerve Cowboy, Origami Condom, and Main Channel Voices.