Shannon Austin
Self-Portrait as the Wonder Twins
[form of: rain]
I wish I could do what water does best:
recognize itself in all its guises.
Igloo bricks, cloudbanks born as breath.
To change back into last summer’s storm,
its trickling end. Or the blizzard
from the photographs.
To cover everything with quiet.
How do you fill rain with marrow?
Pluck the minnows from your throat. Watch
as they squirm between molecules.
//
[shape of: raptor]
Gills twin to lung / beak / talon.
To understand an ending,
name it.
Your hand : my hand :: jay : raven.
Similar but not same. My hand holding
a pinwheel; my hand in yours.
Hold this talon in your stream.
With what body do you touch my cheek?
I wish I could do what water does best:
recognize itself in all its guises.
Igloo bricks, cloudbanks born as breath.
To change back into last summer’s storm,
its trickling end. Or the blizzard
from the photographs.
To cover everything with quiet.
How do you fill rain with marrow?
Pluck the minnows from your throat. Watch
as they squirm between molecules.
//
[shape of: raptor]
Gills twin to lung / beak / talon.
To understand an ending,
name it.
Your hand : my hand :: jay : raven.
Similar but not same. My hand holding
a pinwheel; my hand in yours.
Hold this talon in your stream.
With what body do you touch my cheek?
Biography
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Shannon Austin is a writer from Baltimore, MD, with an MFA in poetry from UNLV. Her work has appeared in Drunk Monkeys, Rust + Moth, After the Pause, American Chordata, and elsewhere. Find her on Twitter @gogopoetranger.
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