UnEarth Magazine.

_{Writing by Wallis Brune – Art by Defne Celiktemur}

Virgin spring shows everywhere 

despite my sacrificial nothings.  

Welcoming anticipatory grief  

in glasses of milk, 

and prawn— 

I was becoming a baby. 

I was conducting distorted forecasts, 

head underground in deathless cold— 

resident in a synthetic womb.  

Daffodils went extinct 

in my punitive-place,  

I was sure.  

Today’s wild garlic 

and the march hare 

revealing 

in their independent way 

how wrong I was.  

I have a squid throat  

but the woodland cockerel sat next to me.  

I see that Druid otherworld  

all those mini altars 

and knee-ups. 

How pence flare 

among all the whelk offerings. 

How earth tore  

then gave 

I see that happening is the only thing.