If the dark weighs you down and
crowds you in
on all sides, you might have potential.
To make sure you’re not a metaphor, attend to what’s winding around your southernmost tip. Loosen
your entanglements. Wire clippers
are good for this. Otherwise,
spin the situation, pretend to believe
in your sturdy foundations. They won’t last forever,
despite the fiction of biodegradables.
And sooner or later
your head is bound to swell,
the green bursting to where the sun
pulled the sky close against winter.
It will open you like a canopy.
It will announce your name to the
Cheryl Snell’s poetry includes chapbooks from Finishing Line, Pudding House, and Moira Books, among others. Her work has been nominated seven times for the Pushcart and Best of the Net anthologies, and recent poems have appeared in Eunoia Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, One Art, and Words & Whisper.