Nature’s Fan

golden light, a smell like downy wings of pigeons at the crown
of a young mother’s head. it is the first, if not the only thing i see,
shining brighter than a cherub’s flesh, a linen sleeve,
a canopy of trees familiar only by roots, and implication.

with an intersection of indigo and navy at her waist, the young woman
dotes on the unclothed babe; hot, we expect, from the clues of a
branch in hand, a title, the slightest blush.

it is remarkable that they have found themselves, so near a stream, so
deliciously surrounded by brave, brave green and the wisdom of tree trunks.
yet more remarkable still, is that no bare foot shows a trace of the route taken.

Rhienna Renèe Guedry is a Louisiana-born weirdo who found her way to the Pacific Northwest, perhaps solely to get use of her vintage outerwear collection. A Jill of All Trades, she enjoys time well spent writing, making art, riding her bicycle, and curating the best Halloween parties this side of the Mason-Dixon. Her work has appeared in Portland Monthly, Bitch Magazine, Scalawag Magazine, Taking the Lane, and elsewhere on the internet. She is currently working on her first novel.


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here