*the children*
I pack parcels into days long-spent

sullying memories stacked on shelf

night floods promises misfed remnants

raven-feather swamp-bound unwholesome

came first then fire then yellow sand threadbare

thorn-sodden my hands my eyes my

far-flung cries mingling with weeds below





*the birds*
Circling high above the water

we wait for fish in violet sky

remaindered calling echo mother

buried in feathered chest

summer slipped deeper water

plastic-choked and swirling out

cradle-call refuged on rocks

nested down to mournful chorus

crying out below below

our lost bodies beneath the water

polished skin and satined bones