- after Antonio Machado
My childhood is memories of a thicket in Ellijay,
a tilted mountain where rough walnuts tumbled.
There were lady’s slippers flung off from the cardinals.
We became goats running the slope.
But really there was a trash truck always parked
on the side of the street, and puddles in the dirt lot,
and a house with pieces falling off and down the hillside,
a house stepping off into clouds.
Danielle Hanson is the author of Fraying Edge of Sky (Codhill Press Poetry Prize, 2018) and Ambushing Water (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2017). Her work won the Vi Gale Award from Hubbub, was Finalist for 2018 Georgia Author of the Year Award and was nominated for several Pushcarts and Best of the Nets. She is Poetry Editor for Doubleback Books, and is on the staff of the Atlanta Review. More about her at daniellejhanson.com.