God is a Circle Damp sky stalker, Turkey Vulture spirals above the rosy afterbirth. Rebirth. His God is a circle. Green spring beats beneath our feet, but the rot never leaves. Our frames are fruiting bodies, un-dead. Wild earth angel, Fawn Lily bows her pale head to pray in a language we have forgotten to remember. Bone to bloom, we are delicate homology woven neatly into Earth's embroidery. God is a circle.
by c. rose smith, hearthspeaker













