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Kristin K. Withers

Windchimes In A Root Cellar

wiping throat to ear
I was identifying things – father, fog,
the swan – by the act of negating
there is a large black box // we are all inside it
covenant and a generative angle tracing
& at times I find myself not far from the harbor
having little visions as jurisdictions
& having died almost quietly my body is
not somebody but it
is
figuring
& vernix warp
& weft, yet deft
in the dimness there were
windchimes in a root cellar
sirens in screaming scent
wiping throat to ear 
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Kristin K. Withers

Kristin K. Withers is a poet currently residing in the Pacific Northwest. She has been an industrial sewist, coffee roaster, bookseller, realty & teaching assistant. Disciplined in analytic philosophy her interests focus on epistemology & the metaphysics of consciousness. Her poetry appears at The Inquisitive Eater, High Shelf Press, Cathexis, Sons & Daughters, Chiron Review, Waxing & Waning, SCAB, Paragon, & elsewhere. She is currently bending nocturnes & working a collection of autoscopic language poetry. 
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  • Welcome
  • IMPOSSIBLE TASK
    • Current Issue
    • Previously Featured
  • BOOKS
    • Full Catalog
    • Health
    • Identity
    • Culture
    • Ecology
    • Reflection
    • Ephemera
  • Music
  • Fundraising
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  • About