EGG: FIELD AND GROUND
a hiccup in the dark
a bleating
white absence informs the shell
exhaustion
all summer it rains
continuously
outside the arbor is coughing
roses, only white roses
around the yard
surrounding it
SHELL
brittle heart
stale crust
munching, nibbling
the edge to scalloped mouse bites
a carving for the dollhouse
above the room
thunder clap
permitting collapse
heartbeat of rain
EMBRYO
miles away the fever breaks
everything is sopping wet
dampness where the whisper
ascends to cloud
forming a start
strike the match
oh small one
all is calm
despite
BASKET
They place us here
nestled
for the wagon
someone pulls
into green hills.
Sorrow bends its head
through green hills
telling of spring.
CHICK
so here we are
table set
at the end of afternoon
where cracks begin
reach for the dish
the breaking persists
help yourself
across the ice
***
I am a PTSD counselor and work with Vietnam veterans and their families.
These poems, linked by the notion of eggs, are in some way related to my
experience with individuals who inhabit a landscape informed by trauma.
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