Artifacts

Artifacts

I'm burying my head deep

into a distant May

a stretch from this late January

where an unseasonable warmth

has reawakened

these lilacs beneath my skin

they sprawl varicose-like

patterning purple clusters

across the outsides of my forearms

around the backs

of my shoulders

Come close

you'll smell it on my breath.

The dark soil radiant but cool

just three handfuls down:

water from an early spring melt

miles of prairie grass and mountain away

filtering deep to the snaking roots

The china-doll's broken foot

spent shell casings

and chimney stones

marked by old fires

have torn my nails

lifting the protective layer

to wedge the nutrients

deep into my fingers

where the growth begins

WHERE THE GROWTH BEGINS