Sanctuary - Bethany Jarmul

Before I met you, I was a deer

trapped in a maze of skyscrapers,

headlights barreling around me

in every direction. 

In your eyes, I found a meadow 

with tender grasses, daisies, & harebells.

Your arms are a forest, 

not unlike the one where I was born—

thick with maple, oak, & sycamore,

dotted with acorns and nuts,

a sanctuary for the squirrels

and for me. I’ve discovered 

new wilderness before, 

but it was filled with black bears, with wolves

with hunters camouflaged as mountain laurel. 

Now, when I’m lost on a one-way street, 

or a tangle of yellow bridges, 

I stumble back to the arboretum of you. 

Your mouth is a babbling brook 

of sweet, cold water. I return for a sip,

then a second—always one more. 

Originally published by Rising Action Review, January 2024

Bethany Jarmul is an Appalachian writer and poet. She’s the author of two chapbooks, including a mini-memoir  Take Me Home from Belle Point Press. Her debut poetry collection Lightning Is a Mother is forthcoming with ELJ Editions in 2025. Her work has been published in many magazines including Rattle, Brevity, HAD, and Salamander. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature 2023 and Best Small Fictions 2024, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, The Best of the Net, Best Microfiction, and Wigleaf Top 50. Connect with her at bethanyjarmul.com or on social media: @BethanyJarmul.