bite
through spray
sweat
wind
and heat.
So I wrap myself
against the swarm
like preparation for a burial.
I am tired
I lie down.
I lie down.
Others notice
the swirling blackness
that settles on my body
but not me
for I am asleep.
The year of the poem is finished, now it is the year for the protocol! Read about the misadventures of a plant scientist trying to make sense of photorespiration one mutant at a time.
No comments:
Post a Comment