My first memories, breathing air, are hands
upon me everywhere — in hollows I
don’t know are mine. Kittenish ribs expand
while I turn off my mind, a duck pond sky
with feathered clouds. The wind inside
tight eardrums loud as what is squawking for
more Sunbeam bread, an empty bag beside
a freckled head laid on cedar before
a hungry flock. Side-eyed witnesses to
a soul outlined in chalk, spread on old planks,
a secret pier. After fires, he brings you
here to decompress with some beers. Make blank
the afternoons in an elementary mind
before winged beasts, a ring of trees behind.
____________________________
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna and more. She is the author of fourteen books of poetry. Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie) and her website http://kristingarth.com
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