quiet spider —
this thick clay bowl
full of sun
smalltales
900
a hoarse and wicked thirst.
sweet apple chamomile.
pebble follows pebble, into the urn.
897
lemon balm.
nine bones and two skulls.
this warm bed full of coldwater minnows.
896
dancing in an outside circle until I fall out of the ring.
these feathers redder than fire.
partridge berry.
892
this fifteen-minute dream of arms, of legs.
chickweed.
a sudden burst of swan-skinned redemption.
890
black gum.
this wet ball of soil like a shooting star.
a good place, dried by the wind of my wings.
889
over the woods, over the waters.
not complaining because I did fly that day.
peach jubilee.
888
orange blossom honey.
I wave a hind away from the harem.
we sleep with golden crowns snug upon our heads.
886
noise — unexpected like thunder.
I leap into the sky, spilling this taste of cornmeal.
wild ginger.
884
wild rose.
this thick clay bowl full of sun.
silken threads unnoticed in the sky.
