there is another way

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There is another way to enter an apple: 
a worm’s way. 
The small, round door 
closes behind her. The world 
and all its necessities 
ripen around her like a room. 

In the sweet marrow of a bone, 
the maggot does not remember 
the wingspread 
of the mother, the green 
shine of her body, nor even 
the last breath of the dying deer. 

I, too, have forgotten 
how I came here, breathing 
this sweet wind, drinking rain, 
encased by the limits 
of what I can imagine 
and by a husk of stars.


—Pat Schneider

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