Cas Blomberg

My voice is
the birth of a peach
in the warmth of a never-ending summer.

My voice is
a powdered moth
scrambling from her cocoon.

My voice is
the murmur of dragonflies
skimming across the water.

My voice is
the royal trumpets,
before they were smashed.

My voice is
a mother’s kiss
dipped in honeysuckles.

My voice is
a hungry coyote
tracking her prey.

My voice is
an old woman’s sigh
when she greets her lover.

My voice is
the ancient earth
groaning as she spins.