Today, I wrote through my own poem. I wrote in response to 11 April and began to develop the other main character in my fairy tale. The working title is:
The peridot leaf lamps of autumn
declare the journey season come.
She's ready for a hero's test
with no ambiguous fruit.
She pays a visit to wild oat fields
pressing milk from green seed heads.
Stirs straw beneath the clucky hen
grasps the warm egg.
Plucks hanging grapes with her teeth
heedless that the trellised vines
fizz with drunken bees.
She's the copper luster of summer
frosted leaf edges of winter
the translucent shell.
Across the sea I am thirty autumns,
her aphotic yolk.