Ren Pike grew up in Newfoundland. Through sheer luck, she was born into a family who understood the exceptional value of a library card. Her work has appeared in journals such as Riddle Fence, Sublunary Review, and IceFloe Press. When she is not writing, she wrangles data for non-profit organizations in Calgary, Canada. http://rpike.mm.st/
Diasporic stories are all
I've ever known. My heart is
waning slowly. My tongue is
losing words. At night, my legs
abandon this bed I've deftly made.
Sleepwalk the full 5000
to barrens now re-framed.
I take requisite ferries to reach
reluctant shores. In the gathering darkness
lit vessels line the wharves.
I see the moon enormous.
I pull hard on the oars.
I fish all night in effigy
for truths I need restored.