A Worm Moon In April 2025
Welcome to A Worm Moon, a poetry newsletter where I, Phoenix Yemi, share what I've been reading and writing through the month.
I've been thinking about light, about the in-between moments, and the necessity of desire.
I knock on wood and pray for tenderness, not cruelty, and what l am learning is that nature is indiscriminate. But most days are beautiful. Some days, the sun is too harsh, the wind a cold breath of winter; but the mornings are softer.
All winter long, I’ve been aching for the earth to burst, and now the woods are flooded with daffodils. I’m trying my best to move towards gratitude, to trust in our capacity to change. Maybe it’s enough for now to pay attention, to stay open, to keep choosing hope, even in small ways.
1
‘It is April…
Look, I am not alone. Look, I am alive
Purple wildflowers blooming everywhere.’
In Abbey wood, the wildflowers are also purple. I feel alive in the way that invites wounding, where everything is tender and at the surface, and beauty is more than probable, but so is the cruelty of spring. The question is not a question, desire feels like a demand. The poet is Megan Lynne.
2
Found image. Poetry in motion. Aracelis Girmay. I want to hold the poem in my mouth and pray for rain.
3
Moonlight; the threshold between what is felt and what cannot be forgotten. This poem moves through longing, memory, and light. I turn always to desire and try to listen for the shadow. Perhaps my need for clarity is obsessive, I want to learn to hold the moment
4
Anne Carson. From Plainwater. I think of Orpheus and Eurydice, that perhaps to look back is to love, is to accept the loss and to write them alive in the music.
5
Fragments of poems to be read this Sunday at the collaborative group piece ‘We Go Up into the Sun'. Last year, I read the poem Intimacy by Marge Piercy. The image of howling is visceral, concrete—it reminds me that it’s been centuries of howling and still we are not free, that the law, that legislation, remains preoccupied with constructing womanhood, of with defining what it means to be a woman: violence. Here’s a reading of it by The Poetry Exchange. I needed to read this poem to continue writing towards the inextricability of the body and the land, gender and power, and the political histories of violence against marginalised communities.
Thank you for reading. I hope you've liked the poetry.
What poems have you been reading this month?
If you feel like sharing, please send them my way. You can email me at phoenixyemi@gmail.com or you can find me on Instagram @phoenixyemoja
💌 With Love, Phoenix 💌
