Rachel Bunting lives and writes near the Pine Barrens of South Jersey. Her poems have been included in both Best of the Net (Sundress) and Best of the Web (Dzanc Books) anthologies, and her work can be found in print and online journals including Muzzle Magazine, Tuesday: An Art Journal, PANK, Toad, Linebreak, and Weave Magazine.
One Who Is Typically Accompanied by Unease
You are the vibrating air between the alarm
bell’s hammer and body or the gentle rustle
of the split-flaps announcing another departure
too soon. When the sun shines through windows
you are the glass it passes through; the alternating
expansion and contraction that moves a clock’s
brass hands across its face. A constant body thrum,
the tension of metal against metal as a train slows
its approach. You move inward as the earth asserts
its elliptical path through the universe and explain
that infinity is a comfort: there is intention, after all,
to the way your bones come together, but the watchful
eye of the painted sky is not focused entirely on you.