She swallows a pearl    uncultured it is

so is she    inside the pearl

sleeps mustard seed or

                             a babe’s clipped nail or

a kitten’s eyelash or

                             something else alive and

spinning warm.

                   She walks toward

the far middle distance

with a pebble in

her shoe    she put it there

to remember   always

that she’s of this earth

                                                not of the air

she cannot fly     doesn’t want

to fly      all that air swishing

as she swings ever higher

toward the moon

tonight barely one night

past full

            she swallows the moon

                                                nor of the water

she cannot swim     such effort

to stay afloat    part of her wanting

to be vertical

    in

    water

she walks on

thinking she must be glowing

willing the pearl

the pebble

the spinning night

to save her.