artifacts

artifacts

I'm burying my head deep

into a distant May

a stretch from this late January where an

unseasonable warmth

has reawakened

these lilacs beneath my skin

(they sprawl, varicose,

purple clusters

across my forearms

around the backs

of my shoulders)

come close

it's on my breath

the soil radiant but cool

just three handfuls down:

water from a spring melt filtering

deep to the roots

the china-doll's broken foot

spent shell casings

and chimney stones

marked by old fires have torn

my nails

wedged the nutrients deep into

my fingers

where growth begins