“Held in palm,/a bloom of peony to/inspect.”
Newborn-slim
salamander/newt
translucent pink
Held in the fall
of leaves thick with wet.
Held in palm,
a bloom of peony to
inspect. Skin, not thin as the
petal of held salamander who
is slick with sunset like
oil pools in water
reflecting sky—
that same horizon
sighs droplets.
Stand in the marsh
of wet substrate
mud painting soles,
tenderly walk
and drop to earth,
welcome a body home.
Briana Meade is a writer in Apex, North Carolina. She has previously published work in Literary Mama and Relief Journal and has poetry forthcoming in Carolina Muse Literary & Arts Journal.