after Emily Dickinson
Coming home through bramble cover
with overhead tree limbs
we hear the tree frogs canticle
the evening, marshland hymns.
Kill the engine, let the frog-song
sink down into the grooves
of longing hearts and sadness borne,
wherein the Spirit moves.
Attending not to our invasion,
frogs sing as if for them
no sting of death does mark their lives
or touch their bright Amen.
Keely Leim is a recent graduate of Eastern Washington’s MFA program, where she wrote a pastoral thesis entitled “With Maple Trees on Either Side.” While in school, Keely continued managing Creek River Farm where she grew flowers, tended blueberries, and took care of an irritable geriatric donkey named Georgia.