Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, an arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
( Once more into the breach )
Reason? That dreary shed, that hutch for grubby schoolboys!
The hedgewren's song says something else.
I care for a cat's cry and the hugs, live as water.
// with selections from sylvia plath, margaret atwood, kurt vonnegut, anne sexton, susan ertz, and theodore roethke
and illustrations- or notsomuch illustrations, but unmeditated out-sloppings- by The Internet