Cocoon….a piece of poety.

COCOON

“Look.” It moves in my hand.
“Go lie down. Got an idea.”

He tears a silk sheet and wraps me like a mummy,
Leaving the naughty parts exposed,
Suspending me from the ceiling.

I twirl in the morning sunlight, the rotating crystal balls
At the window, throwing their fractured light on my shivering form.

He left me this way
And didn’t come back.
It was a mercy.

I spin slowly in the warm, damp darkness,
My arms scaling in peacock colors under the silk.

Life finds a way, even transforming the species.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2008

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