they named me before they knew
little more than this
twisted in vine
I am boundary made flesh
will you sit with me, earth-tromper
and stay
lift my skirts
and see
these oft-sleeping babes:
wood rats and thrushes
throats thrumming—
left bare
my berries like bells—
chandelier over heads
sanctuary, gleaming green
where the walls can be eaten
the tenderest of ends
not charity
but compassion
a setting
as much cradle as grave
will you sit with me, earth thumper
and stay
these pieces of me
gripped like ambition
called poison
I pause
to not correct them
I do not ask to be handled
but my skin answers
a scolding kiss
it it I or them
whose boundaries must be measured
when the earth thrashes apart
metal teeth into mountain
I hold him to me
when they burn me
I am in the smoke
and as the firelight fades
family finds me
in the burn scars
avoid me low
but find me high
on giants
with phantom arm
I climb the light
will you sit with me, earth thunder—
and stay
do not name me
till you know me
know me
with what you see
Poison Oak
Poetry