Elf owl, cactus wren, fruit flies incubating In the only womb they'll ever recognize. Shadow for the sand rat, spines And barbary ribs clenched with green wax. Seven thousand thorns, each a water slide, A wooden tongue licking the air dry. Inside, early morning mist captured intact, The taste of drizzle sucked
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Forth Into View, Random Warriors
The slender checkered beetle, pale earth brown, sallies forth from among the bark canals of the oak, the eaten mar of the woody gall left dying. Her spiny yellow hairs sparkle in the summer sun. Lacewings, locust, and laurel loosen cocoon, carapace, and bud, shimmy out and pause, airing wings expanding like rumpled petals, spreading petals opening like slatted wings, as they pass into the new world. Toe by toe the children of the sun depart from the east out of living fire to become spikes, glumes, anthers, sheaves, broad montane grassland, flowing steppe, savannah, veld, wild horse pampas. The fiddler crab with his royal blue spot emerges beside the great charging dawn of the morning sea, scuttles sideways out of the drenched sands and savory mud bank of the tidal marsh. Now echoes in cougar lairs, snake crannies, coon burrows, the hillside den of gray fox. Moonrat's nose appears from the crevice in the bluff, sniffing fish and wormy mud. Turtle's beak shows at shell's edge first. Claws and feet extend directly. The smooth, golden-green swale of the trout swivels upward, breaks through the boundaries of sky with its mouth wide open gulping day. After parting the flap, after gripping the knob, after lifting the latch, after kicking the door until the hinges crack and fail and the hindrance falls, then the jaunt, the saunter, the sprint, the lope, the totter, ramble and meander, the traipse and slink, the shamble, shuffle, gallop and glide, the push against the beyond begins.