Look for groundskin
axised with canted stitches
on sleepless nights.
Sliver at the abdomen
until your clavicle splits
so the thawlight (that stranger)
can touch more, can slide through
the cracked bone, like a needle
slipping through that floor crack
you keep saying you’ll fix.
The thaw you’re looking for can be
as simple as a child tracking in mud
over the broken spot. A smoothed push
where you would have stomped.
Just a small thing.
Recent work by A. E. Clark has appeared or is forthcoming in Mid-American Review, Rust + Moth, Menacing Hedge, and Witness. Her chapbook Addresses Home is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press (2015). Her website: http://www.aeclarkwriter.com.
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