I won't brood upon you
—though you want it.
Into the wilderness, I
throw your white
shell from my clutch.
Little I know, this aids
hatching. At night
you fly to my bed,
plunge claws, roost
stolid, silent, & sure
between my breasts.
© 2008 Valerie Pell
was born in Northern California where she grew up despising her syrupy piano teacher but adoring her inimical cat. However, she has since changed allegiances and now lives happily ever after with her dog and typewriter in Chicago.
