A canoe, turned, turns
to siege ladder in the branches of
a river bank. Branches like the spearmen
of ground’s castle wall,
while honeysuckle maidens, fair,
hang their silks from tower windows in a kingdom
so shrunk it fights only for a steady foot
in the flowers.
To not be trampled by size 11s,
or the wrought iron elbows of some Rhode Islander,
who in the providence of fog founded
eastern Connecticut
when deciding not to fuss
with maps for fate is unsinkable; an easy
thing to say when every failure
has led to discovery.
— SEAN TIERNEY
Sean Tierney earns his living as a Parks & Rec maintenance worker in the state of Florida. The humbling nature of his job, and his childhood in Rhode Island, are common topics of inspiration. In 2024, Bottlecap Press published Tierney’s most recent chapbook DIZZYING PATTERNS. His poems can also be found in issues of Corvus Review, Streetcake, and Poetry South.