Susan Rich

This Could Happen
December 14, 2014 Rich Susan

This Could Happen


If you kept walking you would eventually step out of yourself.

You would leave the bones of your body,


the bloodlines to all that you loved.


You would be free of breasts and legs, liberated

from the eyes of body admirers—


To travel this earth again like star lily or skunk flower


with the forbearance of golden bees.

If you kept walking out of yourself


you could begin again as seawater, as spindrift.


Don’t worry you’d say to yourself

you’re a virgin non-body, you’re a witness


to ten thousand new worlds.


No lungs, no heart, no breath—

Irresistible now, what might you see?


A bird’s dying shudder


or lovers knotted in a plotline of release?

You’re an example now


of nothing, a fountain of nowhere—

Susan Rich is the author of five books of poetry. Her most recent is BLUE ATLAS (Red Hen Press). Her awards include a PEN USA Award, a Fulbright Fellowship, and a Times Literary Supplement Award. Rich’s poems have appeared in the Antioch Review, New England Review, O Magazine, Image Journal, and elsewhere.