My Own Chimera
- My Own Chimera
if—on a tall wheat eveheat and rock and cricket call sit down.
sweep, the vibration swells, netsbillow the rustle of mahogany bark,of sweet thistle, worn—wear harvest dust as grapes.
call me down the road.
(calla lily in the lurch) a ditch,your simple frog pond—fertileshadow.
and calling me, i answer let her go.
wet reeds, cattails, oneeyelash—electric.
were i the cicadano siren song for woven branches,
rather being of the oak, bay and poplar, aloft, this grass leafed treehouse:
clicking, clucking, enclosing—
my own chimera. [End Page 305]
Erica Tom is a scholar, artist, and educator. Currently a PhD candidate in American studies at Rutgers University, she also serves as the director of Performance Arts and Movement Research at Belos Cavalos, a nonprofit equine experiential organization in the Bay Area of California. You can see more of her work at www.ericatom.com.
