DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

A Chime, a Chant, a Chain

by Kierra Fields



Sunlight spills through spiny crooks

In decaying batten wood.

Dandelions sprout through

Dead shed floorboards.


There, a sooty window, a saffron ray;

Waning, stretching thin.

Something that way shimmers,

Shines. A signal


—The seven letter word

I know you by


Defined, repeated, then

Strewn along a spectrum. Bend the beam

to draw your moth mouth somewhere sweet.

The signal sent.


A promise made.

Meep Meep. Meet Meet. Me Me.

There, there, Now, now, You know where.

Nobody has heard from this home so long,

So far across the years no whistle could reach.


Where sound shuns the landscapes do

melt and blend. Whirling goes the colors of your childhood

Crawl space, my free range, the patio furniture, the peeling paint,

the vegetable garden, your scraped and scabby knees—


Tucked in vivid hiding places, which

When the wind kisses it ripples all our brightest bits

That spark and flare like specks of glass

In the dirt, coruscating in the sun.




DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.