Nuzzled in the Bosom of Hills
On the roaming magnetic land
lying flat, my eyes shocked awake
by the electric liquid light:
chilling winds do not chill me
I know no harm can hold me
even a killing wound will only
seep me back into the stars...
be seeping out from me:
into the float of her womb
and cradled from the cold--
a cradle-of-stars' hanging
the milky way….
Mark Kaplon lives with his wife on their sustainable family farm on the
Big Island of Hawaii. His poetry can be found in recent issues of the
Aurorean, Lilliput Review, contemporary haibun online, Right Hand
Pointing, Frogpond, and elsewhere. firstname.lastname@example.org
I want to let you know this poem will appear as part of a chapbook titled Song of Rainswept Sand due out with Finishing Line Press later this year. The chapbook will be one long sequence poem all on the same subject. If you're interested copies can be pre-ordered from Finishing Line's website starting in about a month or so.