I am born elsewhere on star-strewn shores, crawl with the praying mantis from valley to mountain.
I know nothing of gravity, devour entire coral reefs.
I cannot sleep, the hermit crabs are weeping, a series of rusted door hinges.
I drift from earth to earth, search for bone fragments, overgrown runways, my former core.
I am again, arsenic, metamorphic, an invasion of simple oleander.
Beth Gordon is a poet who lives in St. Louis, Missouri. She is the lucky mother of three creative human beings, Matt, Alex and Elise, who fill her world with art and music. Her work has recently appeared or will be appearing soon in Canopic Jar, Dime Show Review, Quail Bell Press, Slink Chunk Press, #thesideshow (Five:2:One Magazine), Verity La, Into the Void, and Poetry Breakfast.