Remnants – IV. Fawn
Fawn. White and fur. Feet that are horses hands. Velvet heels. A kid. Mulling. To mull over. To think. To turn to peat and humus. To mewl. You dissolve into the ground. The cackle and rattle of a crow. Soft cotton muslin under silk. Under angora. Under mother’s lambs-wool. Under mother. To ruminate upon grass. Upon a backyard pasture. A goat. Leaning. Hold onto the hillside. Grasp at the grass. Hollow shoes. Size nine. Pout inside of pretty. Infant soft hair with a permanent wave. Fifteen. Ma’s coat from the thrift store. A boutonniere of silver roses. A Sunday. Calm. Lethargic. Stiff grass at the stockings. On the palm of the hand. Look away. Look as if you are looking away. At something distant. Just don’t look straight on. Just don’t look at me.
Suppose inside that coat are cramps. Warm blood moving in. Moving out. Back pain. Cold fingers in the grass. Gentle hand in a slight. Nearing the buttons. Across. Toggle. A cross. Loop around it. Knob of wood or bone. A floral silk dress. An X. Length an extra. Collar. Folded sleeves. Eight dollars. Rolled up. Room for a larger body. The circumstances of course. A coat. A bag. An ivory cloud against the gray grasses. A blur of body. A girl. Limbs light as birds. Made of pale. You could clasp those weak wrists and ankles. Drag her out of the photograph. A feeble prize. A kind of goose. A hollow egg. Gold wanted the always. A child’s face. Always. Always and this is the first. Early Linnea.
A flower and a strange.