First Banshee
It comes out of arson
bearing aprons of berries.
It comes in stealth,
not by night,
but by prolonged days
that resemble the final
white cinders.
By a river without warning
it comes in pith,
with wings at the shoulder,
blades at the breath,
to turn water into anything
but ice is a miracle.
by Laura Solomon
from her new book, Blue and Red Things
published by Ugly Duckling Presse
Robin Reagler 