Sarah Dickenson Snyder

Ars Poetica

As if a pipe burst inside, memory
a vast field, those warm strawberries
picked, fingers stained in a freshness
of all I’ve touched as I hold my breath
to stay in the blossoming
of what Rilke advised, Go into yourself,
your solitude will widen,
a whole life touchable—
the lemon tree in the backyard
and I am reaching for fruit,
like I own an orchard,
like I am an orchard.

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Sarah Dickenson Snyder lives in Vermont, carves in stone, rides her bike, and has three poetry collections, The Human Contract, Notes from a Nomad, and With a Polaroid Camera.

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