bella donna, wicked witch
you fill my yard with brittle vines.
Time is past when women flew by night
with help from your bitter kiss.
Now your little gem berries
creep in shade, dodging the daylight—
not for your dark flowers
the monarch’s flutter or the bumble’s hum.
I keep my pets away, but wonder
what power in your poison spittle
what lessons of concealment, survival
what riddles can you answer for me?
Books Available
Dervish Lions
The Day of My First Driving Lesson
Country Well-Known as an Old Nightmare's Stable
High-Voltage Lines
Knocking from Inside
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