After our skin sheds
after the sea recedes
after moss turns gray and tongues of birch
peel into silence after
analogy breaks its logic
of a is to b as b is to c
who will wake to a world unmade in our image

Every web gathers, kills, and tears.
I will not rehearse the after, the re-
weaving that makes each day a new pattern
to die upon. The conditions have changed.
Trees no longer bear the weight of filament.
And my limbs are no substitute,
unwilling to wait, unable to still.

*

Kristin George Bagdanov holds an M.F.A. in poetry from Colorado State University and is PhD candidate in Literature at U.C. Davis. Her poetry collection, Fossils in the Making was a finalist in the 2017 National Poetry Series and will be published by Black Ocean in 2019. Poems in Boston Review, Colorado Review, and Zone 3. She is the poetry editor of Ruminate Magazine. kristingeorgebagdanov.com / @KristinGeorgeB