Andrew Hemmert

Stippled with ghost-white
water roses, the river slips through

cypress. Lightning drips from
clouds, bright veins in

grey flesh. By April
rain my tracks’ message is

damned to erasure, but I am
in good company — here,

fox prints follow a heron’s
path, and winding lines show a snake’s

escape. I too
offer my signs

to soft earth, my foot
a stamp

in shore mud
sealing wax.

ANDREW HEMMERT recently graduated from the University of South Florida. He holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing and a Bachelor’s Degree in Sociology. He will begin a Creative Writing MFA at Southern Illinois University in the fall. His poems have appeared inDriftwood Press, Symmetry Pebbles, and thread.