Stella Padnos-Shea


The calm green land is repeating,
the way a dreaming rolls back and forth in her bed.
Her hand touches

her body’s bark and peaks like wings touch air.
You’d think she was waving goodbye to someone loved.
The earth murmurs.  Pupils widening like thighs.
The girl’s long hair waves hello across her pillow.

Her eyelids roll like rolling hills,
dreaming under the lid.
Girl after girl rolls down the same hill,
laughter rising like grass.
Girls’ eyes trace their earthen profiles,
compressed quakes pressed into their palms.