Zoochory
A dandelion wish
or some ill wind
Euphorbia pods
dryspit seeds
What scatters your pit
is the creature that eats you
Some say mother is a magic vine
that a child climbs to the sky
I say she’s the one who ground the bones
The midwife repaired my tear,
while I – blazed and beaded with sweat –
held my newborn to my nipple
and my cellulose skin split
Amy Beth Sisson lives near the skunk cabbages in a town outside of Philly. Her poetry has appeared in Cleaver Magazine, Philadelphia Stories, Hot Pink Magazine, and others, and the anthology Queer Flora, Fauna, Funga, edited by Frances Cannon. Read more.