1 poem
By Ellen Gerneaux Woods
Secluded, 1965
a sophomore in the art department
charged with photographing
the human form
armed with my 45 millimeter Kodak
self-timer tripod
I hike into the forest
shed my clothes lean
into the sturdiness
of an oak tree
allow myself to be supported
bark imprinting my backside
like tattoos in an ancient language
I search out cradles of rock
shaped over time by creek water
beckoning to hold me
defenseless vulnerable
breaking the spell I arrange my Kodak
timed to ten seconds sturdy on three legs
focus on the frame envisioned
and scuttle back to the setting
leaves crackling underfoot
acorn nudging my heel
to capture my unclothed self
secluded from intrusion
face turned away
Ellen Gerneaux Woods
Ellen Gerneaux Woods lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her poetry can be found in her chapbook The Watchful Heart Recedes (Finishing Line Press, 2021) and in literary journals and anthologies, most recently in Potomac Literary Magazine, Overgrowth Literary Magazine, Workers Write, Tranquillity: An Anthology of Haiku. In her spare time she likes to read and swim.