relay...

I unbuild a box for panic

I unbuild a box for fear

I unbuild a box for worry

I unbuild a box for tears

and preening like a feather

the mud from out my mind

my wings do free-air gather

each moment to unbind

every breath is a swift nutmeat

popping freely from its shell

that nourishing the moment

feeds neither heaven nor a hell

just a smooth and steady untick

where no mouse runs up the clock

and no chiming mars the hour

like a crashing shuttlecock

and flying low I broadcast

fertile seed across the field

where every bird is a fleet farmer

that from soil doth nourish yield...

lucy meskill

photo credit: judith meskill