October ripens as the fallen apples rot
on the orchard bed.
In the woods of Golden Acres Park,
whitely on branches, leaves,
and the crushed stone path
that winds through the trees
turning in fall.
It is afternoon, is customary
on the bed of stones for a hoary slumber
to pin a snake,
stretched from head, unwreathed
bone-by-bone to tail,
swallowed by the dream that made him
limbless. It is not the decay that kills.
The blind heels do. Uncoiled, returning
to the Tree, whose bitten fruit
you sloughed off,
he waits for a traveler’s heels,
what is done.
Miki Fukuda was born in Japan and grew up in Tokyo and Long Island, New York. Her poems have appeared internationally in journals including CV2, The Maynard, Written River (US) and Earthlines (UK). She is the author of the chapbook Finality of the Morning (Baseline Press, 2016) and the leaflet small booklet Songs from Twelve Moons of the Bear (Leaf Press, 2015). She is currently working on her first collection of poetry. She lives by the woods and lakes of Golden Acres Park, Nova Scotia, Canada.
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