Leigh Anne Couch
Leigh Anne Couch has published a chapbook, Green and Helpless (Finishing Line Press), and a full collection, Houses Fly Away (Zone 3 Press), as well as poems in many magazines including PANK, Pleiades, Western Humanities Review, Cincinnati Review, and Salmagundi. Her work has been included in Dzanc’s Best of the Webanthology and in The Echoing Green: Poems of Fields, Meadows, and Grasses (Penguin). Now a freelance editor, she worked at Duke University Press and the Sewanee Review for many years. She lives in Sewanee, Tennessee with writer Kevin Wilson and their sons, Griff and Patch.
Content by Leigh Anne Couch
Two Poems by Leigh Anne Couch
BY Leigh Anne Couch
I play the twin birches like a musical instrument:
missing is to lost as go is to leave.
To the spider bags or sacs of flies
woven like god’s eyes in the trees’ hips
I say, batting, batting, the quintessence
of spring. If the eye were an animal, sight would be its soul.
If the heart were a pond, woe to thirsty birds
in winter with nowhere to light