Burn Bright Thistle
By: Abigail Eckstine
Would you please burn
Thistles and downy feathers for me,
Cut birds, animals and vegetables
A ritual of blood and concrete.
I am passing temporary bodies of myself,
Here harsh and thorny
Double by the roadside – mangled left for fodder
Long twinning fingers and
Chatter voices chatter.
The ghosts of myself are oracles,
Purple stalk and vine –
Between their veins I see my future
And like the lone thistle on craggy hill
I too have accepted this silent spring.
Abigail Eckstine (They/She) is a 26-year-old queer parent-to-be, writer of novels and poetry, and the founder of Cauldron Anthology. Most recently they have been published in Catatonic Daughters and Alternate Route. You can find them on twitter @whimsywriter3 and on her blog https://whimsywriter3.wordpress.com.