Belly
by Lauren Goodwin Slaughter
I’m tired, she says. We’re sleeping, he says.
Who knew a beginning could be totally quiet.
Leaf-light, footprints, a strand of hair blowing past them.
Uneven bells, the traveling.
Mushrooms pushing from this earth.
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VCFA Journal of the Arts
by Lauren Goodwin Slaughter
I’m tired, she says. We’re sleeping, he says.
Who knew a beginning could be totally quiet.
Leaf-light, footprints, a strand of hair blowing past them.
Uneven bells, the traveling.
Mushrooms pushing from this earth.