| . | |||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||
| Silkie Song Anne-Marie Cusac |
She flames like a window at evening her hair the color of late sunset so low and molten it drips into the water. I shake myself hard and follow the coldest current until I see the mackerel running for open water, stomachs fat with the heat they've eaten, gills streaming light like notched lanterns. I pound my tail. I catch one and another, another, another. I tear into their bodies until I cramp with belly fire the color of her hair. |
| Home ~ About Us ~ Membership ~ Bookstore ~ Gallery Info ~ Archives ~ Workshops ~ Links ~ Niedecker |
Copyright © 2003-2010, Woodland Pattern Book Center. All rights reserved. |