'Tis National Poetry Month!

This amazing fact was revealed when I opened my email this morning and found the first of April's many delightful poems sent by pretty-word purveyor 'april is', which i will exhort you, for the third year in a row, to subscribe to.

Unconvinced? Here's what we're starting off with this year:

Nan Hardwicke Turns Into a Hare

I will tell you how it was. I slipped
into the hare like a nude foot
into a glorious slipper. Pushing her bones
to one side to make room for my shape
so I could settle myself like a child within her.
In the dark I groped for her freedom, gently teasing
it apart across my fingers to web across my palm.
Here is where our separation ends:
I tensed her legs with my arms, pushed my rhythm
down the stepping-stones of spine. An odd feeling this,
to hold another’s soul in the mouth like an egg;
the aching jaw around her delicate self. Her mind
was simple, full of open space and weather.
I warmed myself on her frantic pulse and felt the draw
of gorse and grass, the distant slate line
at the edge of the moor. The air span diamonds
our of sea fret to catch across my tawny coat
as I began to fold the earth beneath my feet
and fly across the heath, the heather. 

-Wendy Pratt

You guys. Animorph poetry FTW.