top of page

Red Roads by Jeannie Prinsen

Red Roads

I know I’ll never have time

to walk them all, but no matter:

wild roses or Queen Anne’s lace pressing in

from the ditch, maples or birches arching

overhead, splintering shards of sunlight

onto baked-hard clay, curved or slicing

straight through the body of forest,

it’s the same road, same system of vessels,

same heart – arteries taking me away,

veins bringing me home.

Jeannie Prinsen lives with her husband, daughter, and son in Kingston, Ontario, where she does copyediting for a local news outlet. Her writing has appeared in Barren, Relief, Juniper, and elsewhere. She can be found on Twitter at @JeanniePrinsen.


bottom of page