Cassie Kinney

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Three feet down, beneath the home lies sinister memories—
...

You hold the crown;

And hide your frown.
...

Much of what we say stays to avoid extending pain—

Much of what we do remains an avoidance of shame.
...

In between jobs;

In between homes;
...

Spiraling string fibers woven into dead space fabric-
Atoms form pathways of the textile landscape.

The branching of tree roots and its leaves-
...

I hear whispers of a revolution,
From those who want it,
And those who fear it.
...

Live in the forest's wild;
Breathing and dream like child.

Bask in the sunlight;
...

I have a man, who loves the land.

He builds houses out of mud and sand.
...

We the consumers, are part of their debt,
These clothes are made from their blood and sweat.

Deep cracks visible in the walls,
...

Fruit was hormone rich,
When the jungle was our niche.
Fruit became part of our design,
And we were naturally inclined,
...

Crocuses and daffodils signal spring,
And I feel so alive at the sight of yellow,
Pushing through the snow.
Summer ignites my turbulence.
...