The day we buried her
I overheard two birds
talking together in a tree.
They were planning to throw
seeds into the open grave.

I caught one of their seeds
and crushed it in my teeth,
and now I can hear worms
whispering, and know their plans
for undertaking the transformation.

First, they will gorge themselves,
then come to the surface
to bask in the spring sunshine,
where the birds will feast.

The Poet S

uno rispetto modificata

She writes skinny poems. Long, thin

strips of almost random old nouns.

She says they're bolts of lightning

and aims them at people,

hoping to knock them down.

People never get what she means,

and she does not care to explain.

Cornelis Norbertus Gijsbrechts, Studio Wall and Vanitas Still Life, 1668 (in public domain)

Will Reger is the Poet Laureate for the City of Urbana, IL. He has published consistently since 2010, including his first full-length book, Petroglyphs (2019). Many of his published works have been linked as When not scribbling, he relaxes with the nan xiao and enjoys studying small local waterways (sloughs, creeks, rivers, canals, and ditches) looking for wildlife.