On the Murder of Michelle Tate when we were both 16
kansas hawthorn tree of winterhearts bared, headless he chopped and tossed
her down a well fingers dozens clustered clutch burst the berries
at their flametips redstained throatbirds we’ve been forced to swallow
remaining trees scratch the sky wind hollows winterscreaming
through the branches floodlit plain pockmarked root sockets empty
where lithelimbed saplings once stood
-- Shae Savoy is a Seattle poet and water cartographer whose roots tap back toward Kansas. She has published five chapbooks and her work has most recently appeared in J Journal: New Writing on Justice; Sinister Wisdom; WomenArts Quarterly; Pocket Guide; Paper Nautilus; Common Ground Review and Trivia: Voices of Feminism. She blogs at www.shaesavoy.wordpress.com.