Robin Arble

Summer Song

the meadow in me
opening
estradiol dissolving
under my tongue
chest sore
nipples softer
buds blooming
into breasts
the hem
of my skirt
bursting
one flower
then many

Solstice Morning

I laid in the green shade of a tree, flattening the grass around the cave of my body. I entered the
sway of the branches bursting sunlight on my eyelids: stems of marigolds pushed through the
hollows of my ribs, invisible insects tickled the bones of my neck. I breathed in and lit a patch of
sunlight on the meadow of my torso; I breathed out and tufts of marigolds blossomed on the hills
of my breasts. I opened my mouth and gave my voice to the twin butterflies chasing each other
into the fields of the sky. I opened my eyes, and everywhere I looked was light.

Robin Arble is a poet from the Pioneer Valley of Western Massachusetts. Their poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Beestung, Door Is A Jar, Pøst-, Brazos River Review, and Overheard Magazine, among others. She studies literature and creative writing at Hampshire College.