Spring
I’m the silverhaired
girl who plays
jump rope
in the carnival.
No. In the forest
full of doves
and errant hands.
My shoelace
isn’t errant.
It unwinds
its own
alphabet.
The earth
is my magnet.
I’m the silverhaired
girl who skips rope
in the carnival
in the forest
where the circle
is not forgetful
where the magnet
spins and answers.