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Out of Sight, Not Lost


I'm deep in earth, my home

the oozy mud or deep-cracked

fissures. Long ago I took

to depths as if my element

lacked sight. No light unless

I tunnel up, eat my way

through soil. Surfacing,

I'm blinded, what comes

toward me a blur. I burrow,

safe though sightless.

Don't try to find me.

-- Susan Sailer


Susan Sailer is working on her MFA in poetry at New England College after having studied with several Pittsburgh poets. Her poems have appeared in Poetry International, Appalachian Heritage and Wild Sweet Notes II; a poem is forthcoming in Pearl. She is currently writing a cycle of poems about the 2006 Sago Mine disaster in West Virginia.

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