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  • Mare
  • Claire Sibley (bio)

There is no law against evil. You buried your son aloneunder a lime tree. He was almost a boy

but they called him something else, as thoughyou had carried him up a staircase inside you

and missed a step. I never knew you with long hair,without your thick history. The light held your face

like a chisel. God was a clock hanging above usworking his gold hands backward. You spoke of heaven

as though you had been there and found itwanting. There were whole forests

you made just to lose me in—you knew I would alwayscome home. There is no law against evil.

So I learned to gather the night rainin the place a soul should be. I never ate

at that table in your mind where the other children sit,each small head bent and blank with thanks. [End Page 126]

Claire Sibley

Claire Sibley's work has recently appeared in DIAGRAM, FIELD, The Journal, and Muzzle Magazine. Her poems have been semifinalisted and finalisted for the 2018 Nightjar Review Poetry Contest and the Peseroff Prize. Her manuscript, What the House Made, was a semifinalist for the 2018 and 2019 Pleiades Press Editors Prizes, and a finalist for the 2019 Lexi Rudnitsky First Book Prize. She holds an MFA from Columbia University and a BA from Middlebury College, and currently lives in Delaware.



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