by Elisabeth Blair

I gave up all, went into the wildlands.

I was last seen on the peninsula.

I was caught in a storm, cast adrift.

I and my ships waited in a cave.

I became lost in the clouds.

I disappeared during a descent.

There is some evidence my disappearance was voluntary.

I left hints.

I was depressed, walked out with just 30 dollars.

I bought a book.

I got on a train.

I went down into a sewage canal.

I was presumed to have drowned, but I may have survived.

Several women came forth saying they suspected they might be me.

I was found at last, abandoned, partially submerged, listing heavily.

They tested me and found incontrovertible proof:

no one is related to me.

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Elisabeth Blair is a poet, multidisciplinary artist, and manuscript consultant. Her poems have recently appeared in Juked, GNU Journal, WomenArts Quarterly Journal, and Feminist Studies. A chapbook, We He She/It, was published in 2016 by Dancing Girl Press. Another chapbook (Ethel Press, 2020) and a full-length collection (Unsolicited Press, 2022) are forthcoming. Since 2018 she's been honored to be the poetry workshop leader for the Burlington Writers Workshop in Vermont. www.elisabethblair.net