tell us what the clouds know.
So heavy they churn around ropey, bulging scars
bruised dark, trace them, knotted seams of air that warp and twist
the sky, the earth, the stones – they stir and wake unquiet bones.
See the skin stretched taut at knuckles and noon
blurred by the buzz, we shiver yet before the gale, sing discord
into the weeping, the ache, the shakes: at last, the fever-storm breaks.
Toby is a writer, dancer, artist, and teacher based in Burlington, VT. Hir poetry has been published by or is forthcoming from Through The Gate, The Future Fire, Liminality, and Goblin Fruit. You can also find Toby @tylluan or at tobymacnutt.com.