Salt: poems by Diane Scholl. Number 12 in Volume Three of our Editor’s Series.
Publication: March 11, 2019 [100 copies]
Cover: detail of bentwood box; image provided by the author.
Diane G. Scholl is a retired Professor of English and American literature at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa, where she also taught courses in poetry and in literature by women. Her poems have been published in Cider Press Review, Cold Mountain Review, Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, and Louisville Review, among other places. When not writing she enjoys hiking and biking among the scenic bluffs of NE Iowa, far from salt water, but rich in limestone caves.
Two friends who died came back
in dreams, each with a word for me.
“Leaven,” one said, the other, “Love.”
All week I felt that yeasty rising
in my house; from sly corners of my eyes,
I see them, barely out of reach,
wholly themselves again. When
they’re gone the air is thinner,
higher, filling the bowl of my room.
Outside, my scalp still prickles as
my spade turns up tough roots,
the jaws of voles and parchment skins
of snakes. Nothing survives that loamy
churning underneath, but still I wonder.
Bedded deep in moss: a yellow agate,