our cabin

receives bodies

left to vanish

in the air




I give my own light

to stimulate

this naked body, to venture

a little further

in without stretching

the skin enough

to be seen




the ground is damp

when we return

in the morning, in a body

with a matted

black beard and

one good arm




the cabin was fire, was smoke

was light that took us

by the throat

our spirit hovers with

a wood around it

that has no name




our bared ribs among

the leaves and the sound

of feet running

to explore every part

of this orchard, our stream

glowing red

and fertile below




grass grows over the lost

roads home, each lush

with quiet; we strain our ears

for a heartbeat

but nothing remains

except the silent pawing

of hounds



Garth Graeper is an editor at Ugly Duckling Presse in Brooklyn, NY, and the author of two chapbooks, Into the Forest Engine (Projective Industries) and By Deer Light (Greying Ghost). Other poems in the Brother Cabin series have appeared (or will appear) in Typo, Handsome, Sixth Finch, Leveler, Sink Review, and Sidebrow.