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From: Vol.10 N.01 – Private: The Transformative Now

In The Woods Behind The High School

by Marlowe Jones
scrambling down the creek bed
burs clinging to your jeans
cutting your ankles open

cool water three shades lighter
brown than the soft mud you
sink down into and try not

to lose your shoes or stain the
cuffs of your jeans this time
as you wade ankle deep feel

ice water sting the cuts scratches
on your ankles and that cannot
be good for you but you are young

and alone in the wood sheltered
creek where you can hear but not
see the cars on the highway and they

can neither see nor hear you in your
private world so you sink waist deep
into the creek you watch your sleeves

billow no point to it besides to feel
the current cold dirt debris watch
leaves swirl in eddies breathe earthy

air and listen to birds and bugs
sing to cars who sing to each other
you close your eyes maybe you sing too
Published: April 2023
Marlowe Jones

is currently a student in the NEOMFA program through Cleveland State University. His poems have been published in Green Blotter, Sink Hollow and The Courtship of Winds under a previous name. His interests outside poetry include horror movies, folklore and birdwatching.

An Australian and international
journal of ecopoetry and ecopoetics.

Plumwood Mountain Journal is created on the unceded lands of the Gadigal and Wangal people of the Eora Nation. We pay our respects to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, and to elders past, present and future. We also acknowledge all traditional custodians of the lands this journal reaches.