Poetry: “Mt. Tabor” by Rhienna Renée Guedry

Mt. Tabor

You were a combustible thing. This overcast morning I ascend the  
site of a volcanic vent, where the neighborhood crows roost atop  
cinder cones. The reservoirs cup blue-green waters in a century-old  
expanse of stone and metal. Here where once was smolder and lava  
sits an urban park, crowned with a statue of a suited man, his finger  
an arrow aimed at the Willamette River. But enough about the park. 
I came here in pursuit of fire. Induction to extinction—   
                                               that described you, too. A rootless cavern  
burned through, persistent green proof of what flourishes after. You  
were thrilled by stories of pyroclastic flows, all spatter and tuff  
stuff. You lived for the heat, the ejecta; I am trying to, in your name. 

About Rhienna Renée Guedry

Rhienna Renée Guedry (she/they) is a writer, illustrator, and producer whose favorite geographic locations all have something to do with their proximity to water. A two-time Pushcart Prize nominee and Tin House 2022 Workshop alum, her work has appeared in Muzzle, Maudlin House, Gigantic Sequins, HAD, and elsewhere. Rhienna is currently working on her first novel. Find out more about her projects at rhienna.com or @cajunsparkle_ on Twitter.