Saturday, March 08, 2008

baby spruce

when we were jelly

no question, then
we spent our days

rolling bonelessly
into hollows
of dunes

escaping the hungry
of the sea

then, when
you split me in two
it tickled

like those stray feathers
by the newly molting sun

in half-formed nights
of crystallizing light

our mouths were still too soft
to speak
and our hearts so quiet

that the stars
were as thunder