2 new poems by Marie Little : Portrait & What the Others Know


Holding my breath
fears quieted by river mist
I dance mermaid, full-tailed and fleshy.

You watch like wild garlic as
I flit from shade to shimmer
turn silted somersaults.

You paint me naked, still,
my mouth sand, my eyes pebbles.
I forget to hold my breath.

What the Others Know

My hand in brambles
is it here they tuck 
misshapen thoughts or
are secrets trapped in 
cuckoo spit, clinging
to otherness?
Nothing is ripe here 
yet but 
I grow questions by the hour
weave them into the 
six bar gate, brand
them in bark, nest them in
hedges. A dog-walker nods
a smile at me. His
pockets bulge with
answers, brambles
vining from his boots.

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Marie Little

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1


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