Molt

Image borrowed from Tess who borrowed it from Google


Molt

I shed unnecessary hair,
gather it from the bottom
of the tub and toss it
like a lip-stained Dixie cup.

A run-away-from-home
bag waits, ready, packed
with leftover people, dry
as cracked slivers of soap.

I forget it on purpose,
sprout fresh castile wings
and fly to the brutal clean.
Not a canary to the fair-bird

branch, but bark rogue,
find the woods’ deep bosom
of scrub and fern. This time
I prefer bears and wolves.



Tess Kincaid
March 2011

Posted over on her site Willow Manor