Derivatives
Crab apples ripen.
A fledgling blackbird
still somewhat
downy
leaps up from the low branches,
harkening to the parental squawk.
Late spring.
All things are entering the fullness of themselves, even us, the longest living
who derive ourselves
from the world
yet go
beyond its purposes.
Return Journey
Back to it,
back to earth
and its inhabitants.
Costs about three days
to come back
from the dead, to rise
from the chemo couch,
go upstairs and retake
my breakfast seat.
Rainwater, right
where I left it, the back
yard, blackened bark,
filthy paws.
Cameron Morse taught and studied in China. He is currently an MFA candidate at UMKC and lives with his wife, Lili, in Blue Springs, Missouri. His poems have been or will be published in Plainsongs, I-70 Review, TYPO, Otis Nebula, Sleet, Steam Ticket, Referential Magazine, The Bombay Review, The Blackstone Review, Shot Glass Journal, Rufous City Review, Small Print Magazine, Two Hawks Quarterly, First Class Literary Magazine, Phantom Kangaroo, Cha and District Lit. Visit his facebook page for more information.