Shaman

— E. J. Koh

If you want to take
up space, first see

how small you are
like rocks, honey—

combs, and charcoal
anchoring, feeding,

heating. In the sky
the clouds are combed

like rabbit fur. If I
remember this, I am

not dreaming. You place
the flowered twig

behind my ear, mark
of my learning you

in bluebell, a person
small like me, but higher.

Originally published in MiPOesias (February, 2014).


Read more from Issue No. 1 or share on Facebook and Twitter.