the size of my fist invade our yard
every year. They scare my Chihuahua,
scale the fences. They pause to pose
for pictures I take in documentation
of their return. Their skin glows
gold and green in the flash. I can feel their eyes
full of confused curiosity towards this stranger
they encounter annually.
Birth of a Spore Tree
Young frond unfurls slowly, delicate
antennae of life, tiny finger, reaching for sun.
No wooden supports required,
these lignin limbs will eventually stretch
thirteen feet high. Enduring
tropical conditions, exposed
until final eruption, a crown
of fern-like fronds.
Bonfires are forbidden on the beach
after sunset. Endangered turtle hatchlings
confuse the warmth and light for the sun,
follow it blindly, sacrificing themselves
to the flames.
A.J. Huffman has published eleven solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. her new poetry collections, Another Blood Jet (Eldritch Press), A Few Bullets Short of Home (mgv2>publishing), and Butchery of the Innocent (Scars Publications) are now available from their respective publishers. She has two additional poetry collections forthcoming: Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink) and A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press). She is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2300 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com.