Lorrie Ness

DISTILLATIONS

banshee, 
you must have studied us.

years ago, making salt from the sea,
boiling water away

till crystals remained. we were chasing 
something undiluted. now everything

is a reduction. my father is evaporating
away from his bones.

distillation is what happens 
during illness. i watch his life

condensing inside a room. skin 
shrink wrapping his body. i’m waiting 

for you, banshee. hopes raising each time 
a fox screams or a kettle squeals. 

your silence disappoints me,  
but i understand why you wait.

you learned patience at the shore,
watching us haul jugs from the surf.

we taught you the value of seasoning —
trading smooth skin for salt.

showed you how every hunger pines for flavor.
when his wasting is through,

what’s left of him will be pungent
as dried ocean on your tongue.

Lorrie Ness is a poet in Virginia. Her work is forthcoming in Palette Poetry and has been published in The Inflectionist Review, THRUSH Poetry Journal, Typishly, FRiGG, After the Pause and many others. She was nominated for a Best of the Net Award by Sky Island Journal in 2019.