Jen McClanaghan

You’ve entered my blood
at Fox Run

and Mariomi.
Entered as billions

of meteors depositing
silver.

You are metamorphic.
You are rock unageing

like the granite
we climbed before

we were born.
You were asleep in dust

but still
you found a way in,

standing in me
upright

like grass
before the flood.

Jen McClanaghan’s work has appeared in The New Yorker, Best American Poetry, The Iowa Review, The Southern Review, and New England Review. She is the author of the poetry collection, River Legs.