Let someone pay our ransom
now that they’ve sent the pieces on–
the tip of a pinky finger, a trembling ear.
This cellar, infiltrated by a mousy light–
surely we aren’t to live in here.

Illuminate us, frangible moon
who has surrendered pieces of yourself,
swarmed by tiny robot men.

All the green that we can see:
a crumpled bill they left us
and oak leaves plaiting the bars.
Mold shuttles our names like bobbin lace.

*

Carol Alexander‘s work has been published in numerous anthologies and literary journals, such as Bluestem, Boston Literary Magazine, Canary, Caesura, Chiron Review, The Common, Illya’s Honey, MadHatLit, Mobius, Poetrybay, Red River Review, and THEMA. Recent work appears in The New Verse News, CHEST,  South Florida Poetry Journal,  Driftwood Press, and The American Journal of Poetry. Her chapbook BRIDAL VEIL FALLS is available from Flutter Press. Alexander’s first full-length poetry collection HABITAT LOST is due out this year from Cave Moon Press.