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Red Roads by Jeannie Prinsen



Red Roads


I know I’ll never have time

to walk them all, but no matter:


wild roses or Queen Anne’s lace pressing in

from the ditch, maples or birches arching


overhead, splintering shards of sunlight

onto baked-hard clay, curved or slicing


straight through the body of forest,

it’s the same road, same system of vessels,


same heart – arteries taking me away,

veins bringing me home.





Jeannie Prinsen lives with her husband, daughter, and son in Kingston, Ontario, where she does copyediting for a local news outlet. Her writing has appeared in Barren, Relief, Juniper, and elsewhere. She can be found on Twitter at @JeanniePrinsen.



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