New House I took up occupancy at year’s end. An ex-Manhattanite, I felt unmoored on hearing cosmic silences distend each dusk outside the windows and the doors, as if I’d been transported to deep space. The bare tree trunks beyond the glass panes seemed bar-lines on a song-sheet; the notes, erased. Squirrels circled round like costumed elves. I dreamed one evening I saw a brown-haired girl wearing a plain fawn jumper flecked with snow come linger in the space between two gnarled and leafless trees and do a puppet show with just her empty hands. I felt no fear but watched, immersed. I blinked; she was a deer.
Jenna Le (jennalewriting.com) is the author of Six Rivers (NYQ Books, 2011), A History of the Cetacean American Diaspora (Indolent Books, 2017), an Elgin Awards Second Place winner, and Manatee Lagoon (forthcoming, Acre Books, October 2022). Her poems appear in AGNI, Denver Quarterly, Los Angeles Review, Massachusetts Review, Measure, Michigan Quarterly Review, Pleiades, Poet Lore, Verse Daily, West Branch, and elsewhere. She works as a physician in New York City.