Property and Evidence

by Whitney Waters

I wake to the sound of planets
spinning, making maps    in my head
I imagine us somewhere
out in space    the outer space in elementary
school diagrams with planets all in a line
Mercury   Venus    Earth     Mars
sized accordingly and colored by heat
Mercury: red Pluto: blue
I try picturing them as I fall asleep    gradually
making them bigger until there is no room

we roll through
the earth like boulders collecting
leaves  dirt  other rocks

sometimes the rain forgets
in my garden
things grow
without my help
like the sungold
vining into the yard
kale    once so lush
eaten to lace

I want to curl into tangled
limbs of rhododendron
cave-like and soft
to lie in the field surrounded
by orange and yellow trees
illuminated by sunlight
the way a warm fall day
convinces me that spring is approaching
molecules inside me rearrange

they forgot to teach us how
our bodies are connected
but I know some gravity is pulling me
holding me here
I am tethered   an astronaut

our own fiery heat
the earth’s heart
watery sphere, suspended in time
shifting              of tectonic plates

ants carry the earth away
piece by piece

Whitney Waters graduated from Elon University in 2009 with a degree in English. Since then, she has continued to cultivate her passion for poetry, literature, trail running, and finding her path in life. She is currently taking classes at UNC Asheville to earn a degree in Nutrition.

About Property and Evidence—This piece expresses the tenuous connection we have with the world and how it carries on despite us. It plays with the idea of size and perception in a cosmic sense.