Thursday, May 14, 2020

051420


High Tide


All the arms of the moon
gathered the plump round snails
it was time to bring them home

Each snail’s ribbon of teeth
sliced through the land
wind-tossed ribbons of forest

people flew up into the sky
mingling with the wood
after the storm a jackstraw world

pin oak woman, sweet gum man
standing in sleepy ranks
under a snail-full moon

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