Amy Cuneo

Don't Come Thin

Don’t come thin

Don’t come wanting, or starved

Come dripping with pollen of your neighbour’s heavy branches

Celestial dandruff over your oat skin

Where above you birds feast on colours themselves

Loudly with their coarse laughing

and you are sprinkled in the


of their abundance

Today I traced the ocean

On a bike with my baby

(the very one I was told better to abort)

And better yet

And better still

We shared the bike breeze

practising our barking like dogs-

when all of a sudden we both saw

A bird

Dead still in the sky

without flapping without moving

caught up in the exact draught

where all the air held its little body high

above us

In perfect trust

Come thirsty

Come aching

come come