I, too, am a bit Obsessed
with my own wind-tossed turning,
compass wheeling. My feet go bare
when allowed – when the sun but not the Frost –
The spinning jig exhausts as All borders
on being lost. Now is the time for the fainting
couch – Gentlemen – drag it in and I
will drape my limbs just so. It is decorous, no?
You are dismissed. Revival is a private show.
The blue vein that forks my wrist
slows. I am, again, Northward, again, self-controlled.
Sandy Longhorn is a recipient of the Porter Fund Literary Prize and the author of three books: The Alchemy of My Mortal Form, The Girlhood Book of Prairie Myths, and Blood Almanac. Longhorn teaches at the University of Central Arkansas, where she directs the C.D. Wright Women Writers Conference.