after Wallace Stevens

you must have a mind of fur
to fully enter any weather
to cushion against the burr
of wind and keep flesh warm
in this cold rain.

the mind of fur presents
antennaed tips against
each moment, breath, shift
of sun and night, and brings signals
you can’t translate if you try

but without which life
goes stale, flat as day old beer
left open on the porch
after someone told you
what you did not want to hear.

what a waste. Your mind
of fur bristles at the memory
but no use to taste
what once was good, best to heed
the memory without buffer.

wrap around those wounds
your mind of fur, hug tight
to what it tells you. It’s still
too dark to look, but fur
tips dipped in moving air
will know when the sun
is ready to see you.

Kyla Houbolt lives and writes in Gastonia, NC. Some of her recent poems can be found in Black Bough Poetry, Barren Magazine, Juke Joint Magazine, Neologism Poetry, and elsewhere. Kyla is a 2019 Best of the Net nominee for her poem ‘Yonder’ in Nightingale & Sparrow. She enjoys spending time gazing into treetops and that is where she can often be found when she’s not posting on Twitter @luaz_poet.

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