Sarah Birgé grew up in Vermont's Northeast Kingdom. She lives and works in rural India. This is her first publication.
Twenty Below
We saw the three horses from the window.
On edge, jumping with cold.
Their frosted muzzles and heated snorts of disbelief
can break your heart
crack it like hooves on ice.
My Death And Ascension To Heaven As I Have Dreamed It
The moment it began
I saw from the other side of the dinner table that my legs were white and cold
It was soon enough to be gone
Running ghostly
Legless through the woods to God