“When All the Trees Go Up in Flames, Only Water Puts Them Back to Sleep” is just one of three superbly flappy poems by Kailey Tedesco in our Summer 2015 issue (available here, here, here, or here).

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SHE HELD THE FOREST
like a hairbrush in
one hand, and my
grandmother’s pond
like a hand-mirror.

With her vanity set,
lifted gently from
the alabaster of earth
she spends seven days
combing through

the tangles of her fire-
streaked hair as fallen
strands puddle in the under-
growth –

A reflection ripples
over her drowsed eyelids –
the foxes wake to hunt.

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KAILEY TEDESCO is currently enrolled in Arcadia University’s MFA in Poetry program. She edits for Lehigh Valley Vanguard and Marathon Literary Magazine, while also teaching eighth grade English. A long-time flapper at heart, Kailey enjoys hanging out  in speakeasies, cemeteries, and abandoned amusement parks for all of her poetic inspiration. She is a resident poet of the aforementioned LVV, and her work has been featured in Boston Poetry Magazine and Jersey Devil Press.