Burn Bright Thistle

By: Abigail Eckstine

Would you please burn 
Thistles and downy feathers for me, 
Cut birds, animals and vegetables
A ritual of blood and concrete. 
I am passing temporary bodies of myself, 
Here harsh and thorny 
Double by the roadside – mangled left for fodder
Long twinning fingers and  
Chatter voices chatter. 
The ghosts of myself are oracles, 
Purple stalk and vine –
Between their veins I see my future
And like the lone thistle on craggy hill
I too have accepted this silent spring.

Abigail Eckstine (They/She) is a 26-year-old queer parent-to-be, writer of novels and poetry, and the founder of Cauldron Anthology. Most recently they have been published in Catatonic Daughters and Alternate Route.  You can find them on twitter @whimsywriter3 and on her blog https://whimsywriter3.wordpress.com.