Clade Song 10 Banner
Clade Song 10 left

Clade Song 10



I was a gently curving horn,

was agile,

drew myself to heights.


I dwindled.

I survived.

Thus the tree that grew collapsed

and I became a preposition to the collapse:


A remainder of fur.

A hoof.


Wilderness little different than insemination.

I was an egg hollowed of its contents

and replaced by myself.


Replica mimicking extinction.

I was a lung, a hardening lobe, while

the moving air curved as an ivory horn

and lay still.





Clade Song 10 right
Elizabeth Robinson is the author most recently of Rumor (Free Verse Editions/Parlor Press).  Her book, On Ghosts (Solid Objects) was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Award in poetry.  Recent nonfiction has appeared in Conjunctions and Scoundrel Time.  With Jennifer Phelps, Robinson co-edited Quo Anima: innovation and spirituality in contemporary women’s poetry, published in 2019 by University of Akron Press.