Disappearing in the Panhandle

That spring day I yearned for solitude, wandered from the campground,

perched on the trunk of a downed tree, and lost myself

Plants absorbed me, drank me with their viscous green tongues

my limbs knotted, twisted into ascending spirals of vines

my cypress knuckles clutched black waters

where white ibises dragged their slim stalks of legs

Soil sweated upwards toward the blue glaze

as all returned to the origin of water

my hair, greying Spanish moss, hung in damp tendrils,

brushing the warm carpet of pine needles

Through a broken puzzle of leaves, sunlight searched and tagged my skin

my flesh decayed softly to reddish peat, peeling off in chunks of bark

a continuo of insects rubbed their thighs feverishly, swelled and pulsed

my blood throbbing with the jungle’s wet murmur

Loblollies wept thick tears of amber sap

while the panther’s tongue flickered between my lips

my moist bones went limp and crumbled

herons pierced me with ancient croaks

My heart turned inside out, flapped its swallowtail wings

something laughed at the thought of myself

my mind burst into pieces, and all that was left

was hot, shimmering joy of green

-- Third place finalist, Poetry Society of Virginia 2024 Contest, Elizabeth J. Urquhart Memorial