Today's poem is by Heather Cousins

[A cave of. Crumbling]

A cave of. Crumbling
brick work. A dirty.
A black. A boundless.
Inklike. Hours. Days.
He was sprouting. Full
sentences. His body
blossomed like a tree.
Buds knotting bone.
"Look at the head of
your femur," I pointed.
"It's growing a flower."

Copyright © 2010 Heather Cousins All rights reserved
from Something in the Potato Room
Kore Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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