Junebug

by C2

snow still blankets the ground in Welches
where the Junebug slips on turquoise mittens
and her gray Bigfoot toboggan
to build the season's last snowman

Welches, where she is learning
to call the name of things with her own voice
learning with language
to scoop the material world
into canning jars
like fireflies from the mossy woods

remembering with an ice pick
to pierce the thin metallic lid
and make holes so the words can breathe:
sun, moon, water, snow, star

each word a sacrificial blade
which unavoidably amputates
some portion of the named thing's essence
insufficient as all words are
for the abundance they seek to reveal

but the only tool available
except that tiny delicate index finger
pointed toward a single falling flake
and her wide blue eyes
equipped from birth with silent awe

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No Rules Poetry Contest contest entry

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This is a photo of my granddaughter, Willow June, who I have nicknamed Junebug. In the South we refer to winter caps like the one she is wearing as a Ã¢??toboggan.Ã¢??

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A No Rules Contest Entry

Junebug

by C2

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