Silhouettes

A crow perches inside me.

Actually, it is a whale. It is hard to tell

by touch alone. Nothing I own ever looks

me properly in the eye. Sometimes

a loud caw at dusk feels

like the largest mammal on Earth.

A deep breath out the blowhole

into my stomach. One second it swims

and the next it is a small extension

of a tree. This is a kind of beginning—

a finger puppet show. The light

dancing around my hands.

Me dancing alone on a stem.

A persimmon blooms.

A boy learns a song and plants it

in an orchard. Inside of me

the large creatures change their shapes

to fit. A blackbird. An organ.

Animals with no names. I send them off

into the world daily. Little sadness

takes flight. Love is a brave child.

These things take the shape

of their containers.

I don’t have to do anything

to hold them.