Angeline Schellenberg

Marimba

If nymphs on enoki
      and snails with toes

If dwellers in glass houses
      if these stones stay silent

If ichor droplets
      the size of hamsters

If two birds in the sky
      see one in a hand

If the earth crumbles
      between your fingers

If life hands you lemurs
      or you smell truffles

If you could
      choose your own trance

Ukulele

A tickle, wrapped in a parody,
inside a chinchilla.
Flaps here is a flea.

Lament of the primeval,
by the peashooter,
for the free gull.

I have a stream.
But I didn’t email.

School me, balmy charm.
For sure, and Kevin hears a goat.

Viola

In the shadows
a pearl glows
a mourning dove
I spread my wings
and sing the still small
lung awake
though no one
knows my name

Angeline Schellenberg is the author of the Manitoba Book Award-winning Tell Them It Was Mozart (Brick, 2016) and the KOBZAR Book Award-nominated Fields of Light and Stone (UAP, 2020). Her micro-fiction has appeared recently in Fewer Than 500, Café Lit, and The Drabble. She hosts Speaking Crow, the longest-running poetry open-mic in Winnipeg, Canada.

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