Holly Salvatore
St. Vrain Pantoum
i like the smell of dirt
i cannot hear “song”
without seeing bird
i cannot see bird
i cannot hear “song”
without smelling Juniper
i cannot see bird
without a pebble in my mouth
without smelling Juniper
in her boughs I twine my hair
without a pebble in my mouth
the St. Vrain tugs at me
in her boughs I twine my hair
anchored in the sandy clay
the St. Vrain tugs at me
i cannot speak
i cannot hear “song”
without seeing bird
i cannot see bird
i cannot hear “song”
without smelling Juniper
i cannot see bird
without a pebble in my mouth
without smelling Juniper
in her boughs I twine my hair
without a pebble in my mouth
the St. Vrain tugs at me
in her boughs I twine my hair
anchored in the sandy clay
the St. Vrain tugs at me
i cannot speak