LEBRETON FLATS SPRING DAY

We hold hands
crossing the fleet street bridge
Look for fossils in the shale
the lacy fans of clam shells
calcite rings where crinoids used to coil
There’s a metaphor here
Something about history
Something about the way we grow and change

I look for garlic mustard
in the cliff’s shadow
while you kick through fresh-tilled soil
find hundred-year-old china
fused together by the fire
There’s a metaphor here too
Something about nourishment
Something about how things last despite disaster

The river is low            almost calm
We sip peach cider
share nachos on a patio
ringed with crocuses
wave to the waning moon
There’s a metaphor here, too
Something about sweetness
About how things move in circles
About coming back
to life again
                       again


ALLISON ARMSTRONG is a queer, polyamourous leather femme, a kitchen witch, and a Professional Naked Girl. Born in New Brunswick, she currently lives on unceded Algonquin territory in Ottawa. She has work published, or forthcoming, in Hyacinth Noir, Cuir & Queer Press, Coven Editions, Bywords.ca, Venus in Scorpio, and Rag Queen Periodical. Follow her on Twitter @amazon_syren.