Noonlight
My breath stills. My fingers
stretch. Spine conscious,
I tuck in a racing ground
of blue-green flux.
Calves bare on pebbles, I count
grass blades and ant footsteps.
I decline eyelashes,
dog-rose berries, split veins
on a transparent leaf, the silent fall
of seconds, stones under one foot,
the other. I pinpoint birds
by call. Distant organs pulsate.
Hush wind fills up my skirts
and my toes are intrigued
into movement, till I stand
unbound.