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Poems For the Cross-Quarter Days by Sophia Rosenberg

The First of May


This day is so sexy

I’m surprised everyone doesn’t just stop

whatever they are doing and swoon.


That deep knocking call raven makes

listens for an answer from low in our bellies.

Have you stroked a tulip petal lately?


On the way home from shucking oysters
   on the beach

I washed the juice from my hands by rubbing
   them on thick, wet moss.

I’m not kidding here, this is not a metaphor.

My hands were so full of the smell of life

I kept bringing them to my face to breathe.


Look how the tentacle of this snail stretches to
    taste the air.

Hear how the earth whispers: come closer,

yes, yes, yes.


-  Sophia Rosenberg, 2024

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