your wing-weight
is just enough
to mess your nest
I have brushed
with a human stain
the tight spotted eggs
you would have
fouled anyway
sensing now the crow
descending on your blue brood
and as they fell
something in you said
before the stranger tries
to lie here I will unmake
this bed myself
©
lives in St. Louis and teaches writing at St. Louis Community College. Her book, Each Crumbling House was published in 2010 and received the Perugia Press Book Prize. Her poems and essays have recently appeared in Copper Nickel, Town Creek Poetry, Connotation Press, and The Collagist.
We’ve published two more poems by Gee: “Los Angeles Pastoral” and “A Phrase By Rote.”
