Plenty

by Phoebe Anthus

These days
the common honesty of tomorrow
rubs noticeably.
The wind is full of thoughts that thump
like boots on hardwood floors,
like threshers
and human hearts.

These days dip down
towards months ahead like
Pharaoh’s dream of seven fat-fleshed kine
upon a riverbank.
Alas! The hollow cows await.

These days the moon is full and white.
The color of table cloths
weddings and funeral sheets.
The color of knuckles gripped too tightly,
of bodies that died having nowhere to go.
Of this skin,
these bones rubbing noticeably
on towards the months ahead,
under a heavy moon.

Phoebe Anthus finds her joy in quiet places, in the eyes of a child or simply in noticing little things. Her passion is to help create beauty out of the brokenness all around us.