construction paper

by Will Davis

you become a motion

in a collection of motions

a cartwheel, a pursed lip

circle, square— unbroken

tracing the outline

of a hand, a negative space

a peacock stretched to heaven

its display reaching the terminal

points at the side of fine

pale wrists against the weather

outside, the chill of dense fog

tracing a finger at the window

a beckoning, that hither motion

the bird from your hand

stretches, yawns upward

Will Davis is a nurse and scribbler of small things drifting southeasterly. Further scribbles @ByThisWillAlone.