Adam’s hiraeth

Adam’s hiraeth

Adam’s hiraeth 150 150 Whitney Frahm

“O flours,
That never will in other Climate grow”
John Milton, Paradise Lost


Is this how it feels to have one foot in Eden
straddling the gap between soil and sky,
the road fringed with plots too plentiful to count,
a story blooming in each clump of dirt? 

Is this how it feels to draw long the last breath,
diaphragm stretching, ribcage expanding
for every lost and wide-winged wildling
she ushered through your door? 

This is how creation splits: 

how the whole world cracks and the light pours in
and the war-worn trenches of her wilted face
cradle shoots of life that lift you up
toward a new and flowering land.


Whitney Frahm

Following a move from Virginia, Whitney Frahm is taking a break from working as a speech-language pathologist to explore England with her active family and two spoiled Yorkies. She is fascinated by language in all its forms, from the first grunts and gestures of babies to the reconstructed words and stories of stroke survivors. She writes poetry and non-fiction narratives about nature, spirituality, and the comingling of the two. Her poetry has appeared in Ampersand, Emory & Henry College’s literary arts magazine.

All posts by Whitney Frahm