“Her Oldest Brother and the New October Moon” by JC Alfier

Her Oldest Brother and the New October Moon

A slither beneath an overstory of red oak and white pine.
She watched fog give the sun its glaucous eye.
It was like being snowblind.
Complicit were sparrows heedless of God’s eye.
Her brother dropped a deer out of season.
He’d unsealed private land with bolt cutters.
She asked him something and he asked where the fuck she’s been.
Said the hardwood kindling needs cutting.
She can’t find the plate that rusted off her bumper.
It’s too damn early for cold like this.
Tonight she’ll gather windfall apples from the widow’s trees.
Her brother will stalk the dark thigh of the moon.

JC Alfier

JC Alfier’s (they/them) most recent book of poetry, The Shadow Field, was published by Louisiana Literature Press (2020). Journal credits include Faultline, New York Quarterly, Notre Dame Review, Penn Review, River Styx, and Vassar Review. They are also an artist doing collage and double-exposure work after the style of Toshiko Okanoue, Francesca Woodman, Deborah Turbeville, and especially Katrien De Blauwer.

Headshot: JC Alfier

Photo Credit: Staff