SANDRA RIDLEY: A POEM

Priska Wettstein, courtesy of Red Edge Images From Vigil/Vestige Ecstatic and liable to rapture in the hours before dawn. We’re beckoned to the lake — to the ruin. An omen. Our salvage—shivering by the weeds. Revenant, we falter toward the good— for the smallest amount of the most worthless thing. Sleepless and with shy sweats and the cold we’re night-blind by. After-dream terrors of a slaughterhouse— or a labyrinth akin to a slaughterhouse. Lured. One by one. Our frights and nerves. Sandra Ridley is the author of three books of poetry: Fallout (Hagios Press), Post-Apothecary (Pedlar Press), and most recently, The Counting House (BookThug). S he knows how to use a compass. Read our conversation on landscape, language and poetry here .