Paws tossle thick mounds of clay, unearthing possibility. Digging away the dark, burrowing my worthy rabbit body back into its breathing hedge above.

A familiar wild, wanting of my soft feathered body as I am of its thick familiar tufts of unruly wild-grass.

See, I sing hum in my mothering lullaby, like a tuning fork from the pulsing bloodroot of my heart to the stars and to you.

Burrowing and sweating with want, pushing in and through, out and away, creating the warm womb to light a small fire, free-fall back into everything already holding. See.

Rest here. Rebuild your home in the heather, atop the tunnels that tried and tricked and carried your questions on a wild ride.

Held now in cattails and catalpa leaves, juniper and driftwood. An unexplored field in your familiar Appalachia. You see?

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