C

Corners

by t.m. thomson

The bat carries stars
on the undersides
of her wings.

Her head is the tip
of galaxy
her body a velvet
comet
shattering night
with its jagged arc
of flight.

Her thumbs & fingers hold
the membrane of sunset-
twilight-evening
that covers us
together.

She sips the fruit
of moon
dives into a river
of mosquito-beetle-moth-
cricket.

Waves ferry her from oak
to stone to chocolate daisies
blooming like novas
at midnight.

Milky Way–its shell
spiral studded with tourmaline—
spins in rings around her
as she flies.
She brings it to land
lighting up cave chasms
abandoned houses with empty
eyes for windows   
dying trees numb to sun
& other inky corners
we seek to overlook
rushing past
with bated breath.

~inspired by Threeleaves art

***

Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash

t.m. thomson

t.m. thomson’s work has been featured in several journals, including Wild Age Press, The Ekphrastic Review, and These Fragile Lilacs, most recently appearing in The West Trade Review and Borrowed Solace. Her poetry will be featured in upcoming issues of The Voices Project, The Blue Ash Review, and The Pittsburg Poetry Review. Three of her poems have been nominated for Pushcart Awards: “Seahorse and Moon” in 2005, “I Walked Out in January” in 2016, and “Strum and Lull” in 2018. She has co-authored Frame and Mount the Sky, a chapbook of ekphrastic poetry (2017) and is author of Strum and Lull (2019) and The Profusion (2019). When she’s not writing, she can be found communing with cats, playing in mud, or spinning.