How does the Gentle Soul Die? - Julia Koncurat
poetry ☆
poetry ☆
How does a gentle soul die?
Does it lay down, like a ewe
who’s lost its mother
bleeding, bleating for a happier
green pasture it can never return to?
Or does it run? Like the deer who
after shot, bolts through
the forest of its childhood
not aware of its red spasms,
but encompassed by its fear?
Or does the gentle soul,
like the old dog, kicked from its home
not die, but rather
turn to something wild
that can’t heed or beck or call,
but, with foaming fangs, turns to its master
and forgets it was a gentle soul at all.
Julia Koncurat is from Bel Air, Maryland. She is currently studying to earn her BA in English and Portuguese studies. Her work focuses on intersections between humanity, nature, and trauma. When she is not writing or studying, she can be found working at the Library or teaching English as a second language. Julia has previously published criticism in Criterion, poetry in Three Panels Press and The Palouse Review, and memoir in The Palouse Review. She is grateful to the editors of Bacchanalia for including her in this first issue, and to the wonderful readers of her work.
