"poemworm"

i’ve learned
the wisdom of the silkworm,
known the soft
cradle of the dirt.

i’ve listened
to the flicker of the great
tree-heart,

i’ve thought tree thoughts,
many-rooted and gossamer.

i have spun silver
silk all night and day;
i have netted the sun,
like an ancient fish, flashing
goldenrod here and there
in the brine,
fish-mouth
surprised and gasping.