Spider trails float from trees,
glass threads freeing the ghosts
of tiny wings and hearts.

In the street earthworms dissolve.
I breathe in air flavored with citrus
and gasoline. My blood aches,
gentle as a crushed moth.

Above me leaves are slicing
through the tissue and skin of water
into a soft blue-silver sky.

I suddenly imagine a skeleton tied upright,
a wind blowing its arms upward -
over a field of gray sunflowers,
glossy bones reaching for the sun.

- Sara Leslie