the hike persists as burrs
hitched to my pants legs, spiked
green buttons — I don’t own
clothes with buttons, mute
gaping mouths — I strip the hard
pips to the floor of my friend’s
car to weather winter’s heater
funk — dehydrate, ferment
incubate — come spring, come
thistle threading her car’s interior
come fungi sporing, invisible
mites, robin song, oak leaves
unfurling, scrawny wide-
mouth yawning bear
No comments:
Post a Comment