Nicolette Bond
Carve
Wind's reach and whittle
late summer veins
the hollows
when you write:
rushes' grip saves sand
saves pond
we hold two spotted eggs
in a cup of moss
all that threatens
opens
the hermit thrush's song
never knows its outermost
edge never
knows its impossibly red
flowers
you carry over your woods
Nicolette Bond is currently a web content manager in Chicago. When she is not staring at the code or fulfilling her duties as Volunteer Fire Marshall, she writes poems about birds and construction workers.
"I had my first heavy petting session on a front porch in Indiana. It was summer and the coyotes were howling like mad in the corn field across the street. Over breakfast the next morning, my parents kept commenting on the noise and intensity of the 'wild dogs last night.' My folks kept at it until I finally yelled out really loud, 'OK, we're animals, are you happy now?!'"
