Lines

by Lori Hershberger

Trace the blue-green veins on the naked wrist
where life throbs through its conduits, circling;
trace the flight of the far-soaring swallow
black against the flame of sun.
Trace the line of the wet river, running
through the valley, and as you do so,
say to yourself, “I am alive.”
And then, trace a line through the drought-drenched dust,
the rain-hungry soil. Lift your finger to the edge
of the smoky horizon where at night
the ridges flare in startling flame;
trace the burning circle of the dying sun
that dies every day, and through
parched lips, say to yourself,
very softly,
“I am alive.”

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Lori Hershberger lives in Mae Hong Son Province, Thailand, where she teaches EFL and dreams of traveling across the Salawin River into Burma. You can find her book, Dustbeams, on Amazon.

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Photography by Kenneth Godoy