Breaking Somnolence

After 3 months of rain a lightness.
White snow in the yard
The varied thrush’s song
new to the year.
There’s a small pinch in my chest
A healing together, a suture
Made of hard-won thread
A tentative, flexible closing
Made of soft membrane
A permissible fabric woven
To transmit light
And coddle delicate things.
Wounds are rent and healed
Daily and these small placentas
Grow from them. Opportunities
Add together inside everyone
Until some kind of spring comes
Breaking somnolence.

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