The spring storm and the scree
—All loosely crawl into some growth.
was for the stork—
a sign of distress, a fatal, drool-etched
SOS . . . Poor, dutiful beak.
Now down the riverbasket goes in marble!
And the drain, so stern.
(“All blue weave and vein.”)
Sisters of one stair: Heel, heel,
heel around the crossword mold: Though names spread
across our arms,
thunder builds up the sleeves
to gather all in a sense, like edible flowers.
Copyright © 2013 Farnoosh Fathi
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.