Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Fifteen Winter 2007 |
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Rapunzel Laura Hirneisen Let down your hair, century’s worth at least, nests for crows and wrens, tree without leaves. From your fingertips, pearls, shower to the garden where seeds have slept, indigenous as bees through winter’s hold. Your spring begins as calls, starlings below in grass, ice’s wither from ground, air’s tang of mud and wet. Now you must speak, rediscover each divot and dip where you walked before, your hem like a pair of wings brushing sky again, let down your hair. |
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About Laura Hirneisen |