Tuesday, July 08, 2008

beyond the porch steps

the ground is full of entrances:
rivulets, groins, fissures,
glands swelling from under
brown leaves crisp as paper,

roots grab hold
and twist like a blind
hand finding an eye,

dark mold,
in the crotch of things,
on the rotted squirrel
skull, on the fallen hive


Talia said...

Ooooh. Lovely.

Nick said...

Really liked S1 & S2. Perhaps S3 did not take me where I expected but still much enjoyed!

Rachel Mallino said...

Christine, I really liked this poem. It was refreshing this morning.

Christine said...

Thanks, Talia!

Nick -- hmm. Interesting. Thank you.

And Thanks Rachel!