Amie Whittemore

I didn't wear shoes
as I walked across the lawn
on my father's arm,

a woman turned
into a bouquet.
No diamonds. No ring bearer,

but flowers everywhere-
phlox and rose
and lavender. Pure June.

My heart, that jail cell,
that banquet hall.
How it dug itself into a well.

Hair a nest of matches
burning out.
The sparks caught air-

to this day I find them,
singeing a pillow,
refusing rain.

Amie Whittemore is the author of the poetry collection Glass Harvest (Autumn House Press) and co-founder of the Charlottesville Reading Series in Virginia. Her poems have won multiple awards, including a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Prize, and have appeared in The Gettysburg Review, Sycamore Review, Smartish Pace, Cimarron Review, and elsewhere. She teaches English at Middle Tennessee State University.
Find her on Twitter @amiewhittemore
instagram @amiewhittemore
She is also on Facebook as Amie Whittemore.

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