Inspired initially by Bianca Stewart. (Does she have more than one poem?)
Caterpillar Perfume
Yesterday we went running
the stoplights out of tune
orange, blue, blue,
a spooned wet air room.
stir me on my good days
oats and sugar soup
a stain-soiled bare knee
a buttercup underfoot.
Eee-eee, the swallow yells
books and stems choking
stolen fingers dirty prints
a dead nest soaked in.
tell me how butterflies rise
eyes survive the winter,
stained-glass wings move
hearts at rest to pilfer.
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