I hope you forget those stories I told you
thousands of times
So they can return to you
like the reeds beneath the thaw
Matted and tangled, damp,
in yellows and browns
aching for sun
There’s life in those reeds
Worms, insects
Moving through days
in sun, in your shadow
An ant may crawl across your skin
and you’ll find yourself
breaching your surface,
returning to your place

Quin Nelson works as a teaching assistant in Portland. He likes reading, writing, drawing, and playing pickup basketball, and he wants to be trilingual within three years. His housemate has a cat named Spoon.