A poem is born of a peapod
pierced by a nail. The shell secretes tears.
An eye grows on crooked thumb
seeds go asunder slipping through fingers
a slimy worm wriggles in mind
a caterpillar is born of the pen
powdery syllables settle on wings 
a butterfly mates with o’s and a’s
impregnating a rhyme.

1 June 2020