English, Poetry

Instead of granny squares

To stand on top of Montelpulciano
clutch two clouds and flourish
head first 
into the valley
with wind in her toes

To frisk across Bonnybridge
catch flying fish from the river
and roast it on hot coals
tear the crisp skin with her teeth
spit the bones into the fire

they shrivel
and glow like a nightlight

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