belonging

Uncategorized 1 Minute 

under a tree
in the filtered sun of spring
I mistake the grimace of a rotting fox
for a tiger skin

and I remember
how in the school yard
I learned to walk
without myself
wearing my leg hair
like indifference

down the road
between an iris’ purple lips
a bee is sucked in
a creature sure of entry

and a koel cries
again and again
“are you?  are you?”

Published by abigfatcanofworms

We all walk in the dark. But if we hold hands, perhaps the dark won't be as scary.

Published

3 thoughts on “belonging”

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