Elinor Ann Walker
Sediment
If you hear anything over
and over again,
it’s going to make a dent
like water into rock.
That’s how people get
cavernous,
one too many times
called worthless
in hollow love.
Picture limestone.
You know how it softens,
gives way to sediment,
allows whole epochs
to slide by and through.
That’s how ages go. Slowly.
That’s how time stretches out.
That’s why when the first drop
falls, you must take note.
Otherwise, your surfaces erode;
all that debris will wear you down.
You’ll become just another
system of caves where more
and more people get lost.
That’s why you must get out.
Elinor Ann Walker’s recent work is featured or forthcoming in Whale Road Review, Nimrod International Journal, Juniper – A Poetry Journal, The Orchards Poetry Journal, and Plant-Human Quarterly, among other journals and anthologies online and in print. She holds a PhD in English from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill and is an adjunct professor at University of Maryland Global Campus. A Best Microfiction and Best of the Net nominee, she lives with her husband and two dogs, is the mother of two young adult sons, and prefers to write outside. Find her online at https://elinorannwalker.com