Prophet

Abstract

Prophet Kathryn Petruccelli (bio) Keywords Kathryn Petruccelli, late summer, poetry, sun, light, death, leaves changing Early August. The sun seriousabout itself, the breeze moodyas an infant, hushing its breathto a whisper, watching, then liftingall it had into a burst of joy. Everythingbright, like night was just a formality,sweat a rite of passage. That week,there were birthdays in the family—someone turned seven, another fifty—and anniversaries, markersof good decisions, solid unions.A cardinal pair sang in the branchesof the apple, eyeing the grass, lively, eager.That’s when I saw it: the first leaffall from way up in an oak,already brown, tumblingfrom the kind of height that’s higherthan it looks, and it looks pretty high.It was unmistakable—the dip and weave,the flutter, something of a plummet at the end.These vibrant days, that should have seen usreach out across the dinner table, touch,lightly, the face of a child, walk leisurelyalong riverbanks holding the hand of the beloved.Our phones dinged on and on.Paving trucks growled down the street.We dreamed of airports and dentists.And this leaf—prophet, ghost, falling like that. [End Page 103] Kathryn Petruccelli kathryn petruccelli holds an MA in teaching English language learners and harbors obsessions over place, words, and the ocean. Her poetry and prose have appeared in places like the Southern Review, New Ohio Review, Rattle, Tinderbox, SWWIM, Sweet Lit, River Teeth’s Beautiful Things, and others. She’s been a Best of the Net nominee and a finalist for the Omnidawn Poetry Broadside Contest. Kathryn teaches workshops for adults and teens that center around contemporary poets, a love of language, and the emotional literacy needed to weave a better future. Copyright © 2023 The Massachusetts Review, Inc