Liane St. Laurent

Bio: Liane St. Laurent is an old dog learning new tricks. She has washed dishes, driven horse-drawn carriages, picked apples, taught English, and most recently, is an IT professional. An emerging poet, she is nearing completion of an MA in Creative Writing at Southern New Hampshire University. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband, André, and their two dogs, Jolene and Katia.

upon reading 1,000 birds fly into skyscrapers

before the morning bloomed and yellow remained uncertain —
and before I sensed the secret and covert activities
of birds — before I knew the histories of their quick warm hearts
and before I renewed my own heart’s history
of an easy autumn morning, there it was in black and white:
an apparition of blood and feathers.
 I read the news and chew the words like day-old bread, ponder the shadows cast by crumbs.
 birds — their souls remain a mystery but this I know: if not for glass houses and their mirage of clouds.
 stay — stay I whisper toward dark firs where chickadees still sleep — stay with me,
 together we’ll wait for a different sky.

what is a dog , anyway?

you ask about my grief —well here it is.
my heart: a ball of yarn,
neat bundle, smoothly wound and in good order
 until
the earth tiltsmy heart rollsmy world unwinds
 becomes
a tangle of salt and dirt,a muddle of earth and bones.
what is a dog, anyway — you ask.
i tell you:she was my woolen heart.

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