The Wardian Case
opens to moss, ferns
and cinnamon orchid air
Fly on the trap struggles to be free, while
the sun filters through the hawthorn tree
Where, as children
we cut ourselves upon the thornapple branch: blood brothers
And, like Odin you wandered and wandered,
found the words,
drank and lived the words,
became a poet; let the words carry you away
Me I was Loki;
I was you without wings
I can still see her down by Indian Springs
still remember the smell of her hair,
thornapple branch: blood sister
But, that was a long time ago,
when new worlds awaited us -
each, just a breath away
The fly stops fighting,
winter soon will end
But for now close the Wardian case,
you’re letting all the secrets out
