Body Memory – Karen George

A knot of newspaper
crawls across asphalt—
moments of deep hurt
pressed still.

Light pins the silver maple
to the pond’s silk edge,
coiled leaves yellowed.

Pecked open,
I heave the stone,
remember the sharp
edge of violent intent,
the sky a cracked bowl
of needles and skittering claws.

Author’s note: ~ Found poem composed/modified from words in the poem “Brown Leaf” by Lia Purpura

Karen GeorgeKaren George is author of five chapbooks, and two poetry collections from Dos Madres Press:  Swim Your Way Back (2014) and A Map and One Year (2018). Her work appears in South Dakota Review, Louisville Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Adirondack Review, SWWIM, and Naugatuck River Review. She reviews poetry at Her website is: