spinning stone

a twist on a turn of words
her flower, his hunger
they spin stone for bottle
counting crows perched
high on the live wire
to see who gives what & how

his is the spring
& her seething gives to dance
with her flair, her flail
her everything & ghost
his everything & love

suspecting the hollow
of the old trunk
in the field alone stands
they spin bottle for stone
while crows writhe & laugh
at how the given becomes what
in seething this spring