Stachka.

The yolk of the sun

bursts out from the sickly sky

bruised yellow and grey

kindles the spread of

thread between fragments, elbows

woven tighter still

together they stitch

a butterfly net, chasing…

Dream-eyed, shoulders bright

and brazen as the crocus

erupting through grey

soil their banners flutter.

Hot words swell in chests

filling bone baskets

steaming through mouths wide and wild.

search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close