Katrinka Moore


poems from Numa


Rises

sun-sleepy / she dissolves
to air / balmy, floating /
turns to wind / skims
brush / scoots around
trunks / shimmers
a thousand leaves / flies
skyward / sails / herds
cumulus / bumps
into nimbus / cools
off / drops down




Being

particles eddy /
circle being-
as-light / swaddle
luminosity in
flesh and bone / in
luxury of fur
and tongue / back
to the body / familiar
wonder / Numa spills
her deep light
through mass / past
hide / out among
earthward




Unfolds

burrows
under / stretches
sunward

years go
by / centuries

still / never
still / awake
from pith to
outer bark / calls
draws in / dark
anchor / needles
of light / cone




Fire

Circle the fire, night
at their backs. A lone
voice sings — archaic
strain — flame ashes
coil of smoke —

Numa the darkness surrounding
them / Numa a vixen edge-
flickering / a sleepy child
catches hazel-eyed
gleam / spark




Umbra

dark travels / wind-
less / Numa spins
on her center / circles
her sister / wheels
through blackness
silence / catches
echoes distant
light / dusty red
sliver of white / passes
into shadow

at home / dolphins
take to the hills / goats
fall in love
with the waves




Katrinka Moore is the author of This is Not a Story and Thief. A recent review of Thief, along with books by Eileen Hennessy and Kris Bigalk, appears on George Held's blog.

The poems above are from Numa, a manuscript about a shape shifting creature. Other Numa poems appear in Otoliths 18, 19, and 23.
 
 
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