ant5

coverlet of white

butterflies carved in niches

on the rock mountain

adjusting the hang

of the camisole wild beast

lurking in darkness

fingers tucking in

edges each window open

all across the land

watching two women

in silk pantaloons copy

the veins of a leaf

placing a palm on the kitchen window the thunder’s warm

train tracks

one leaf spinning

on the beech

Turning on the light I become someone alone in a house

an inkling

of the bee’s vision

purple clover

invited to feel

the stubble on her legs

autumn rain

i am a body

composed of ant

exoskeletons

i can hear

the missed cues

of ampersand and

prosthesis