Kind of Paradise

realized the entire countryside is my mother 
my father, a hidden spring down the road
the house on the hill is haunted
I am haunted by the time someone 
didn’t understand how the bend in the creek 
is a caress to my tired shoulder 
how the crunchy meadow grasses 
mow the ringing in my ears to a dull hum 
my cradle overturned by a flood in the barn 
the day my grandmother wrapped her vines 
around my aching stomach 
she grew and grew there 
roots in my sallow gut 
the sweetest hush from my coyote siblings 
the ridge is full of my blood 
when I cry, it’s only the smell of wildflowers
simmering in the hot holler sun 
that brings me back to this dry truth
I get my eyes from the tobacco fields and 
my suspicious smile from one hundred 
little blue skinks on the bleached woodpile

***

Chelsie Blair Nunn (they/she) is an artist and educator working in Knoxville, Tennessee. They teach elementary visual art and theory & practice in teacher education at the University of Tennessee. They have been recently published in various journals and also have a forthcoming chapbook titled Give Me a Holler published by Tofu Ink Arts Press 2023.

Instagram: @chelsienunn

Website: www.chelsienunn.com