(in the way of planetary motion)
Alexandra Kulik
I
The embryo hunts,
peels back potatoes,
learns to tie a knot
strong as womankind.
II
A wonderful blue piano
connects homes,
restless child to child.
What a dream—
the play of the moonlight scales.
Then the cracks spread and all fall down;
growing up is hard to do.
III
His fingertips to her temples
and thoughts crumple.
Love turns our solitary cities to dust.
The kettle grows accustomed
whistling for two.
On the window,
breath of winter
breath of hot milk
curtaining sigh of rapturous bodies.
Truth has nothing to do
but expend its lungs, then sleep.
IV
The cock crows
stars fall
cows chew dew grass
all morning long, and at noon
Indians come to worship.
We roll in the field
and sometime we emerge silver haired.
Oh, what a life this is.
V
Have you meditated
beyond the horizon?
Ashes to ashes;
we are in danger
of being forever
Alexandra Kulik lives in the northwest suburbs of Chicago with her dog, Sam. She’s been passionate about writing since the 3rd grade, when a teacher praised her hard work—an expository essay on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.