3/30

an old ache woke today
i thought it drowned in Miami
while hard waves crashed my thighs
salt meeting salt

but here it is again
calling loudly of hidden rushing waterfalls
not dry deserts or busy cityscapes
chosen not settled

go away, i half whisper
folding myself into my rough hammock
while a tiny brown bird sings
without an answer

More short poems:
1/30: not my cat
2/30: comfort