local_library SYLLABLES

by Mark Senkus

Published in Issue No. 258 ~ November, 2018

Air tickled with the movement

of leaves upon their branches

I sit still as the world blows by

in its own warm breath


I watch the sky which is never

really there

the air held in like a bubble

a sphere a dome

a mouth holding the

warmth of the sun like brandy

on a tongue

the treetops forming one tongue

leaves and branches together

going off into the distance

pushing up against the sky

as the roof of a mouth

I sit still on the tongue of

this world

as one word ready

to be spoken.


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Mark Senkus was born in Detroit, Michigan, and for many years now has lived in a far corner of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in proximity to a forest known as the Delirium Wilderness. Senkus obtained a Master of Social Work degree and works as a psychotherapist for a Native American tribe.