By Amy LeBlanc

the space between her hips
is furnished with dandelion
seedlings and mud.

wisteria scales the walls
curling its vines around her torso.
to aid her recovery
it pricks her fingertips,
then makes a holding space.

With rye in her pockets,
she stretches her vanishing point
far beyond the birch tree
and the rope.

she abandons her half formed
footprints in the snow
and sways.