She hung loose over the sway
And the sun crept slowly beneath.
She let it fall over her head
And it would spread no further.
Like a sound dropped—
And held in the curve of a breath,
And a glance of a wingless lark,
Like a brown, hard, bark,
Running up to mercy—
She was.
The beads of light appeared and stood,
Waiting—
Before rippling down,
And looked at her.
From the sky between leaves,
She moved like a spark quietened,
Twirled between roots and rocks,
She was.
And on leaving,
Closed all the world into
A dim, still, lined afternoon…
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Assistant Editor: Christina Lorenzo/Editor: Rachel Nussbaum
Photo: flickr/Johnson Cameraface
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