They were sorcerers, bringers of sunshine, gypsy queens
	shimmying down the hills of the pregnant earth,
		budding with life,
		crashing through the tunnels that once contained them.
Minds like baby dragons
	trapped in acorn caps,
	unraveling and spilling over edges of a dark stage
	into an audience
		Nothing but empty chairs
		draped with dust and linens.
Revelations hidden from the light
like toes, barely peeking out from black burqas.  

Before, sounds crept from the corners of their mouths
bumpy tongues 
were banging at the cages of her teeth.
Now, sharp hips accompanied the racket,
slicing the fragrant spring air.

Like the orange and purple spiraling through the sky
	bodies spun out of control
soles to earth
jabbing hard at the spiky green blades. 

She said, “without the little bugs there wouldn’t be a lot of things.”

____

Margarita Prokofyeva is a Philosophy major at Virginia Tech with a newly discovered passion for poetry.