Devon Balwit

Becoming

          The whole earth from a great distance means less than one long look into a

          pair of human eyes. Even the eyes of the enemy.

                                               —Carson McCullers

We plant hatred in furrows, but before it fruits,

our enemy says something that sounds like what

we might say, a thing as startling as the view

of our mirrored face in good light, not

nearly as hideous as imagined. Unnerved,

we let our small plot revert to a tangle,

a gift for mouse or bird. Once swerved,

no longer habit-caught, we angle

off in unforeseen directions. The view

is beautiful, though strange. To speak of it

seems ill-advised, too new—

like an untested love or baptism. Better

to steep awhile, becoming what invites

a linger, a twisted wick blossoming into light.

When not making art, Devon Balwit walks in all weather and edits for Asimov Press, Asterisk Magazine, and Works in Progress. For more of her poetry, art, and reviews, visit https://pelapdx.wixsite.com/devonbalwitpoet.