2 poems

by Ivy Aloa Robb

Isabella

A dog asleep near gate in grass,

She looked like a caterpillar 

In late summer,

A black-ended bear all

Curled up with her back to me,

The sienna fur matted to her thighs 

Like patches of steel wool.

I wondered if she were dead,

Or if shortly she would turn her muzzle 

From flesh to lift her head

Then look at me with smoky-quartz eyes,

But I was already driven off 

And couldn’t know.

if I could go back 

If I could go back to the Ash River, 

I’d bring less with me. 

When my father turns and says “it’s slow fishing today”, 

I’d take more time to know what he meant.

I wouldn’t let the loon look at me

From across the bay.

Her wailing a mockery of my own song.

Her breath a vapor in the wind—

Suspended above the water.

I’d bait my own hook

And filet my own fish,

Even when its flesh becomes warm and difficult. 

I wouldn’t ask for any help.

If I could go back to the land,

I’d spend more time laughing with my mother, 

Watching the black bear 

Nudge its babies into the treeline.

Their legs nearly breaking under their swollen bellies. 

If I could go back to the clearing, 

I would chase the grouse with my sister again

And laugh less at their suffering.

Find another way to feel better, 

So that I didn’t have to strike them myself. 

I still remember their blood against 

The boulder I used to read Millay on. 

I can still smell August burning sulfur 

And the dock’s rotting mold. 

If I could go back,

I’d pray more often.

Ivy Aloa Robb is a poet and artist from central Florida. Her poetry has been featured in various literary journals such as Emerge Literary Journal, Lindenwood Review, Ephimiliar Journal, and more. Alongside her creative endeavors, Ivy is also the founder and EIC behind Magpie Lit, a platform she founded to give voice to emerging voices in the literary world. When she's not lost in writing, you can often find Ivy indulging in birdwatching or exploring the intricacies of theology.