by Cassie Ridgway
Your hat all hung
a drop of laudanum,
a tendril dangling on the brink
of a shallow glass:
open me up how I want to see.
The narrative calls itself home.
the house that gave birth
to coevals: stories securely boxed up
inside its humming walls;
we leave her when what is unwritten
seems to hang on the wind
ringing chimes outside the window–
bells that resound always home.
separated bodies of water
the growth of vegetation
pulled from warm soil.
This verdant earth is ours
it’s worth dying for, but we can’t just stay here.
That standing on the water’s edge, we look on at the far reaches of our
our tiny prayers adrift like a gas above
That home is the distance between us and our occurrence.
* * *
Cassie Ridgway is a poet living in Portland, OR. She received her degree from Portland State University in 2010 along with the Kellogg Award for Poetry. Thus far, all of her published works are from her collection, “Mag-Big,” which is also the name of the retail shop she owns and operates on Hawthorne Blvd. Though poetry and music are her first loves, she makes her living as an apparel designer and store owner. Her shop, Mag-Big, features the largest array of Portland designers in the NW. The phrase and namesake, “Mag-Big,” is a kenning that she has been working with for a number of years and hoping to make sense of. Efficaciously, it is a study of her own sense of smallness amid an ever-expansive sense of time and place. To be aware of Mag-Big is that moment in which we are perfectly located in an unfathomably large picture.