Leah Soderberg

Leah Soderberg Poems

We were holding each other at the punches,
he and I. At the skull-soft spaces,
the bruised hills of my spine—what he called love spots.
...

2.

—past the dry-mouthed gooseberry bushes, except everything
was dirtied by rain.
Over again, you paint the magpie
we found on the wilting grass, and I mistake its feathers for wings,
...

Leah Soderberg Biography

Leah Soderberg received her BA from the University of Northern Iowa and her MFA from Arizona State University, where she taught academic and creative writing.)

The Best Poem Of Leah Soderberg

Fontanels

We were holding each other at the punches,
he and I. At the skull-soft spaces,
the bruised hills of my spine—what he called love spots.
What I called my mouth-to-feed,
even after the electricity burned out.

After we couldn't pay the bills
or the toll road to take us elsewhere—
days spent numbering
thunder claps on our dark hands.

And the sparks— the trash fire
across the alley. The dogs barking
at its orange warmth.
What even the rain couldn't grow—
his shuttered birds or the shapes I shadow

on the walls. Shadow for hours—
—(What could we have done?)
There was a house we built around this.

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