Rituals of Sanction by Jade Wallace

Today, I bury the last thing that my lover gave me—

vanish from parents’ house, ex amor, with only
a spade and a full jar of what was left, walk a
dead end road in the cold of midwinter,
find the slit in the woods, slip inside,
enter the circle of seven fallen trees
reaching for each other and there,
on hands and knees, stab the frozen
topsoil until it opens like cupped palms,
turn out the hurt, seed one green
blade of hair, cover it all in
dead leaves and snow, saying,
let me never waste again,
look up and note the three harts’
oversight, walk home but not by the
same road, weather the season, return in
summer to see if amaranth dusts the clearing

—by this ceremony I am resigned, with this final rite I cleave.

This poem was featured in Issue 07 of Canthius.

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Jade Wallace's poetry and fiction have appeared or are forthcoming internationally in Canadian Literature, Room Magazine, The Stockholm Review, and elsewhere. Their sophomore collaborative chapbook, ZZOO, under the moniker MA|DE, will be published by Collusion Books in fall 2020. <jadewallace.ca> <ma-de.ca>