From My Window
By Kyla Houbolt
October 15, 2022
October 15, 2022
|
|
The chopped blooms drip
from the flattened top of the pruned bush under which the cats used to shelter. It rained hard. So, no cats, and flowers like candle wax. So, nature, all tidied up by fashion. Bales of hay stacked high. Rivers channeled and dammed. Fish suck air. But at least, no floods. Or, well, at least, not this year. Like the tiny bee on the drooping sunflower, we can nose down into life's needs and forget all that other stuff. Until the real flood arrives. Or the fire, or other doom. But why am I telling you things you already know? Here. Right inside this mass of pollen, there is sustenance. The sunflower still has lots of open faces. The finches have the seeds. It’s a kind of plenty. |
|
Kyla Houbolt’s first two chapbooks, Dawn’s Fool (Ice Floe Press) and Tuned (CCCP Chapbooks), were published in 2020. Tuned is also available as an ebook. Her work has appeared in Hobart, Had, Barren, Juke Joint, Moist, Trouvaille Review, and elsewhere. Find her work at her linktree: https://linktr.ee/luaz_poet. She is on Twitter @luaz_poet.
|
|