The first mythmakers were unafraid
of appleseeds and so they ate

the invisible starbursts
at the center of each core,

handmade their own hieroglyphs
with fine evergreen needles

spun loose by riverstone concertos,
the world’s first picture—red lines

standing in for impulse, mammoths
for the beasts driven out

by greed, then decay, as the gospel
of apple took hold in the shapes

of hands and horses and orchards
in their throats, a disappearing

heritage before the forests,
before the floods, before the wind,

before the flames without color,
revealing at last how it is

we find what we love:

in wordless caves of our own making,
where mud thins into primordial want.

About the Author
Chelsea Querner is a poet living in Portland. She originally hails from the Boston area and earned her MFA in creative writing from UNC-Greensboro, where she served as the Poetry Editor of The Greensboro Review. Chelsea was awarded a 2022 Summer Fishtrap Fellowship and her work is forthcoming in The Laurel Review. She teaches yoga and also volunteers in her community as a writing workshop facilitator to support aspiring writers.