Tresha Faye Haefner’s work appears in Amarillo Bay, BloodLotus, The Cincinnati Review, Fourth River, Melusine, Pirene’s Fountain, Poet Lore, Prairie Schooner, Radar, and Rattle. Her chapbook, Take This Longing, was published by Finishing Line Press. In 2012 she was awarded the Robert and Adele Schiff Poetry Prize, and in 2013, a Pushcart Nomination. Tresha lives in Los Angeles, where she teaches private workshops at The Poetry Salon. Visit http://www.thepoetrysalon.com for more details.
Map: Something sepia-toned, full of sea monsters. It tells you where you want to be, everywhere you are afraid to go.
Cartographer: A boy, looking out a window, dreaming about sex and butterflies. He is looking for the right passage. He is looking for lost keys. He is looking for you.
Isthmus: In a large body of water, two narrow strips of love with death on either side. Cross at night. Cross at morning. Sleep long sleeps in the gusty afternoon.
Ocean: Something for whales to swim in. The eye of the same boy looking out the window, dreaming about sex. A large body of water. A large communication network for whales who sing to each other from entire hemispheres away.
Hemisphere: An imaginary line.
Imaginary Line: All lines are imaginary. Even the map is an invention, a basket we wove to hold the entire world.
Continents: What holds the body, holds the mountains. A place to find moose and lizards, tea-roses and butterflies, about which a boy is dreaming when he looks out the window, imagining the seas parting for the clean slicing bow of his ship.
Compass Rose: A flower. The blossoming of discovery. The first boat broke through the water like a floret cutting the soil. Wherever way it was pointed, that was the way home.
Originally published in Hunger Mountain