Wishbone
by Samantha Jones
Cover Image by Michael Yull
Wishbone
by Samantha Jones
Published September 3, 2021
A row of mesh back baseball hats Beehives and yellow wax candles
drawers filled with coins in white the Rubik’s cube stored
paper holders stamps in your desk a meadow
in books and binders folios full of forget-me-nots and if
of history curated cared for you go deeper into the forest
a divine curiosity there are bunchberries
passed down three more with leaves creased
times the non-material by prominent midribs
we sit in the gazebo and listen the folding of a flag
to the rain smell the lengthwise then again then
lightning and raspberries walk toward each other
play a few rounds our hands touch
of mini-putt at the transfer
a game of trivia a lesson a skill
a wedding photo printed on paper
with rounded corners albums for
hockey cards memories snapshots
lined up on shelves and under
the coffee table pulled out for
a visit I see my face part
of a compilation a composition
the apex of an echelon of geese
a flying family tree reaching
out disparate directions these
fused clavicles can’t be pulled apart.
Samantha Jones
Samantha Jones (she/her) lives and writes in Calgary, Alberta on Treaty 7 territory. She is a literary magazine enthusiast and contributor with poetry appearing in Blanket Sea, CV2, Grain, MixedMag, New Forum, Room, and elsewhere. Samantha grew up on the east coast, and is Black Canadian and white settler.
She is on Twitter, @jones_yyc.