RETREATING

by Caiti Quatmann


After the storm, the forest exhales;
pine needles glisten like a thousand tiny mirrors,

reflecting fragments of a sky, newly washed.
The creek, swollen with rain, carries leaves

that have seen empires rise and fall,
their veins etched with history.

Moss clings to the rocks,
a velvet embrace charting

a history in shades of green and time,
an archive of silence in the undergrowth.

A heron stands--on the water's surface, its reflection
a ghost, touched by the morning's hesitant light.

Shadows play across the bark of a birch, secrets
scripted in fleeting rays, a dialect of darkness and light.

In the meadow, wildflowers awaken;
their petals—open arms, stretching to

a sun that has watched
civilizations turn to dust.

The air vibrates
with the hum of bees.

The mountain, in its stoic grandeur,
wears scars of time like badges,

traces of earth's deep breaths.
And there, in the heart of the wilderness,

where the horizon kisses the sky,
lies the boundary of our understanding,

A frontier that retreats as we approach.


* * * * *

“Retreating” was previously published in Quatmann’s debut chapbook Yoke (MyrtleHaus 2024)

Caiti Quatmann (she/her) is a disabled poet. She is the author of the poetry chapbook Yoke (MyrtleHaus 2024) and Editor-in-Chief for HNDL Mag. Her poetry and personal essays have been published by Thread LitMag, The Closed Eye Open, and others. Caiti lives in St. Louis, Missouri, and teaches at a local Microschool. Find her on Instagram and Threads @CaitiTalks.