Between the Pages

by Liam Nieman

Wandering alone at the edge
of Rowan Oak, I find
a violet flower buried among
ropy green vines and bring
it to her so she can
I.D. it. “It’s probably
a wild iris.” She presses
it tightly between the pages
of the book I brought
along to read. What’s left of
its dampness leaks
through the pages. Five
petals crushed into three,
a flag no longer
fluttering with each gust.
That can’t compare to fields
of yellow dandelions
I look at alone while
Neale sleeps in the passenger
seat, her seersucker dress
wrinkling with each breath.

Liam Nieman is an emerging writer and junior at the University of Mississippi in Oxford. Outside of class, he writes and serves as arts and culture editor for The Daily Mississippian. While his creative writing has yet to be published, his poetry recently won first place at the university level of the Southern Literary Festival’s annual contest. Read his previous poem in Deep South here.