February 2008

Anna Catone


Anna Catone received her undergraduate degree from Princeton University and holds an M.A. from the Bread Loaf School of English at Middlebury College and an M.F.A. from Sarah Lawrence College. She has published work in the Boston Review, and her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Caketrain, damselfly press, the Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, Lumina, and Post Road. She lives in Pittsburgh where she teaches and helps to edit Coal Hill Review, associated with Autumn House Press.
Nursery Log    

At Pine Hollow, the old tree blocks the path,
its bark nearly gone and rotted,
one place at the base of the trunk where it still peels off,
almost indistinguishable from the undergrowth.

I went to the Festival with words like "welcome"
on my lips.  I did not see her all that day,
just one woman who might have been her mother;
her face now replaces the other.

There is nothing to be done.
The broken roots of the tree,
the carved out heartwood
grow into the soil,
covered with needles.



The Arborist    

The dead tree in the yard stands out,
its knotted eyes in the wood plain, clear.

"You're talking too loudly!"
"Enthusiasm," she had said through tears.

"Too loudly!  Too loudly!" the mockingbird taunts,
flightings in and out of the thicket.
The bower, a complex latticework;
vines from another nearly pull the tree down.



Anna Catone: Poetry
Copyright ©2008 The Cortland Review Issue 38The Cortland Review