Water lilies quilt the fen
and cast pillars of shade, tangled members
Steam off the creek bed sings
of all things teal and quiet
‘Fens blossom in the heat of silent flames,’
It is winter in my bedroom now, not outside
Twilight is a basket woven from cattail stalks
Shears swing their hips, primp unclean edges of light
Snow seeks shelter with algid stamen
as cold air sways water to slush
and roots unstifled by soil congeal
What solace is left to veins
too listless to surf saline currents?
As lungs buckle, the body ceases to wonder
I have shaken my outline, fingers chipped,
each now crowned with chalk spearheads
All with the meadows’ prior abscondence,
ether was tethered to chamomile spells
I am delivered to lave this body
a body so at ease it no longer seeks oxygen
