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.