Holiday from issue 67
It showed up first in the eyes
where things too often end rather than begin.
It started small and leapt
a circuit or two until it caught
the jagged edge of a neuron. It settled
sticky into the mesh and waited
for the brain, always hungry,
to tug along its web
the extra weight of the new
and draw it to the center.
It showed up next at the mouth’s
corner, the heightening
in the cheekbones, a slight flush
across capillaries. Hands
rose, turning, weavers
of speech into the air, the final spin
from the invisibility of flesh
before banners unrolled, picnic baskets
sprawled over grass, and wine flowed
wherever it found a curve in the hillside.