I saw my life crawling through the grass It had 11 legs all tinier
than eye lashes I couldn't find it in my field guide so I got down low
to see it better but ended up in the posture of someone praying or dying
From a hole under my palm I could feel in the earth wind blowing
on the surface of my face I tested the hole with one finger then two
hoping to pinch the tail end of my life but I came up instead
on something hard and gripless in its living I can't say I was afraid
more frustrated somewhere above me I could hear a flock of birthstones
land in the blueberry bushes I've been missing the nicest things my
whole life and isn't this always how it happens Above the tree line
there is probably a certainty circling That's what effortless looks like
the path a body cuts while waiting for a sign from below It is almost
time to land but for now I think I could crouch here forever
Sara Biggs Chaney is a poet and writing teacher from White River Junction, VT. Her work has recently appeared in Blackbird, Sixth Finch, Sugar House Review, and elsewhere.