Pantoum

A Poet Stumbling in Circles

In a field full of daisies (I lie

to ask a question full of thorns,

blood dripping slowly (all the way

down my thumb) until it rests

to ask a question full of thorns

(a bit like death) falling half drunk

down my thumb until I rest

inside warmth (starting to look

a bit like death falling half drunk

in a field full of daisies. I lie

inside warmth (starting to look)

blood dripping (slowly) all the way.