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Pull Me Home, a poem by Jenny Kalahar

Pull Me Home

    There is no seed left 

in Mother’s maple.

No leaf left to fall.

No root I haven’t stumbled over

sticking from the sod.

There is no word to call down lightning,

no thunder in the cloud,

no rain on the horizon,

no train to pull me home.

There’s no need to look higher than the silo.

There’s no balm for these hands

left bleeding till they’re dry.

I walked hard, so hard

all through the night,

determined to pull myself home.

There’s no stone, no sunken ship

beneath the rocking waves.

No buoy I can cling to,

no solid place to stand.

I’m tired, but I’ll tie myself

to a gust of river’d wind

and wait for seed or leaf or reaching root 

to pull me from here to home.


Jenny Kalahar is a used & rare bookseller, novelist, and poet in Elwood, Indiana. She edits and publishes Last Stanza Poetry Journal. Her poems have appeared in several journals and anthologies. The 2022-2025 Poetry Society of Indiana Premier Poet, she also leads Last Stanza Poetry Assn. in Elwood, now on Covid hiatus.