Loving Ferns (Susan)

I would like to be a lover of ferns
In a place somewhere dark and cool
The sweet scent of spores
Riding through the thick air
Landing willy-nilly upon
Expectant mouths

I would like to lie down
Among fronds turning to me
With the melancholy call
Of mourning doves sliding above my face

I would cover myself with leaves woven of lace
More delicate than that of Irish spinners

I would raise my dry mouth
To be quenched
In the musky, flowing shade


–Susan Schefflein
Draft © S. Schefflein 2006 All rights reserved.