In the Forest, Falling

By Re Harris

These poems are snapshots of hope, anger, romance, fear, survival—life on earth and the varying temperatures of that space between wondering and being sure. "My Pink Ribbon" and "Maps" encourage, "Barefoot, Faster, Wiser" sets one woman's record straight, "No Lie—Men's Jeans Circa 2011" rants with a smile, and "Sparks" ponders the push and pull of attraction through the hyperaware lens of a dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Re Harris
• Release date: Sep 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301424740

Re Harris

Ré Harris is a "starving artist" who writes poetry and short stories, sometimes songs. She makes her home in Chicago, Illinois and hopes to add a novel to her repertoire sometime soon as she continues to scribble, scribble, scribble.

Book preview

In the Forest, Falling

by Ré Harris

Copyright 2013 Ré Harris

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced without the author’s written permission

except in the case of brief quotations imbedded in critical articles or reviews. The cover of this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part except within critical reviews

or within articles referencing this book.

Author may be contacted at [e-mail].

Cover design by Angela Harris

Photography by Averil Dean

For Angela and Jasmine

who always look perplexed when I lament that I have no talent.

And with appreciation to everyone

who has taken time to read my work,

offered much-needed feedback,

and generously

given kind words of support.

You have all added branches to my tree.

Table of Contents

Maps

Barefoot, Faster, Wiser

Reclaiming Blue

Drunken Poem—Free Drink Event, Vodka

Charcoal Scarf

My Pink Ribbon

Some Hearts

Lavender

Paper and Ink Prayer

Pennies

Cacophony

Brew

Soap

Ownership 2012

In Mind of Summer

Seven Stories

Names

Sentence

Twister

Storm

Like Glass

Shiver

Reflex

Lens

Crawling

I Never Wanted You to Know

Courage

Respite

Bones

No Lie—Men’s Jeans Circa 2011

Thanks

The Vagaries of Memory

Black Ice

Worth

Backstage

In the Forest, Falling

Sundress

Sparks

Maps

You hesitate,

hands to yourself

quiet.

Someone said your question was wrong.

That wasn’t me

measuring cool

like whiskey.

Lean close,

I’ll kiss you back.

Or ask me

choosing I heard you words

if you’re afraid.

Say my name,

the one I told you a hundred ways

hinted by word

body spoken

mouth curled around sound.

Do you want a map?

See more of me.

I’ll unfold