A journal of art + literature engaging with nature, culture, the environment & ecology

Two poems by Justin Groppuso-Cook

Justin Groppuso-Cook, Detroit, Michigan, USA

 

No Need for Artificial Light

 

We bear witness to this night 

where all creation surrounding us 

is lucid, lit up in the slightest. 

Meteors shower us; they leave their signatures 

in the puddles that form 

in our footprints—the space 

we leave behind to reach 

a clearing. Walk light, speak soft. 

The rift of our Milky Way 

lies like a spine fossilized 

in the quarry overhead. We gather 

tinder, kindling dead cholla. 

Build a lean-to in the pit. Get down 

on hands & knees, spark it 

with flint. Add splintered logs 

& birth a well of flames 

to burn our clothes, these rags. 

Circle the flurry of ashes, rub it into our skin. 

The fire sinks into a state 

of smolder. We play the embers 

with our fingertips & tease 

a little glow: a sprinkle building steam. 

Rain clouds unthread & weave 

into volcanic peaks; darkness 

is simply when the eyes are shut.

Terrestrial Meditation

A raven leads me to the west, her black feathers twirl

to earth as grains of yellow & magenta gypsum 

kick up in a whirlwind. My eyes water from the dust—so

far from source yet so close to the other. Two legs 

carry me to the peak, hopping from edge to edge, cliff

to cliff, followed through with forward momentum 

& a little faith. Rock cuts my palms as my blood

coagulates with sand; lightning splits open the distance. 

There is no refuge, no savior: only solitude, my keep. I

push up the steep to a clearing, a portal: a world 

unfurling with rainstorms & surfacing light that fills

the ridges, the curvature of mesas. A landscape 

sculpted by ancient tides, erosion, monsoon seasons, &

trickling white gypsum: weather that shaped epochs 

& eras of this body, glimmering; shaped life through

the Paleozoic, Mesozoic, the primordial periods 

of flowering plants. The piñon, juniper, & sagebrush

twist together before me like fingers in a ritual.

 

Justin Groppuso-Cook is a Writer-in-Residence for InsideOut Literary Arts Project as well as a Teaching Artist for Living Arts Detroit. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Haunted Waters Press, Dream Pop Journal, Luna Luna Magazine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Rust + Moth, and Glass: A Journal of Poetry among others. He received a 2015 Pushcart Prize nomination for his work featured in Duende. In 2022, he will be a resident at Carve Magazine’s Writing Workshops Paris. More information can be found on his website, www.sunnimani.com.

<earth, land, sky and sea as palimpsest>

<earth, land, sky and sea as palimpsest>

Wildness, still alive