Turning Point when the caterpillar digests itself or orange leaves erode with dry veins. the Dagger Moth appears a pile of mold plastered in a corner, shed of its fur. when the rings of a tree seem lost because they are no longer cut open by lumberjacks when …. hold on. hold on to… like heaving to vomit but stuck in transition transitions between seasons; tears that seep into every crevice of the earth restoring disfiguring damaged. that space. the death and disassembling, the worth preserving; the transforming deafening silence
Jennifer Jeremiah is an English instructor at Central Michigan University, Digital Faculty Consultant with McGraw-Hill Higher Ed., and avid organic/sustainable seamstress. Her poems, often centered around the dichotomy and intersects within her multicultural Indian-American home, have been published in Kavya Bharati, Muse India, and Postcolonial Text among others. Jennifer lives in Williamston, Michigan with her husband and three daughters.