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  • Writer's pictureLammergeier Staff

Exposure | Rosa Canales

We had mushrooms for dinner, roasted 

Portobello caps, constellated 

Tops speckled from how the moon shines on 

Some more than others. Because the moon 

Is never fair. It lights up the sky 

But forgets the deepest crevices, 

Not inside the earth, not quite, but just

At the surface, where plants strain their necks 

Like wavering chimneys to gulp down 

The light, however weak, however 

Putrid, and where mushrooms lie awake 

In silence, belly like tops curved to 

Reflect the moon, but wishing with all 

Their might for it to rest on their backs 

And sing them to sleep, in the night, 

With trembling hands, she shows me her

Rock collection, how, on her wheel, she 

Sharpens and shines blemishes away 

Until they slip through her tan, calloused 

Fingers. She plucks stones from the rusted 

Garden bucket and does not mention 

Death like I knew she wouldn’t, but holds

The sleek rocks up to the light, spinning 

Them to show me each side, each angle 

Without any specks to remind us 

Of the garden and the hot Midwest 

Sun, just the surface reflecting the

Blue moon of her iris--a collection

Burnt smooth and carefully curated 

For her late-night audience of one. 

Rosa Canales is a recent graduate of Denison University, where she studied English Literature and German. She currently resides in Columbus, OH.

Twitter: @rosacan9

Instagram: @rosacan



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