Miniskirt Season

by Jessica Tyson

First spring sun
             lilts
                          through—
a summons,
             a siren song.

                          Release
the craving ankles & let calves
             streak free
                                       from seersucker.
Get out in the street.

Let the red
             mouth of May
                                       open heel backs,
                          edge upward to legs
             (any higher & you’ll
             highlight the thigh).

Oh, the thighs—
             thighs a sign:
                          not an entrance,
                          no admittance,
thighs a road map,
             a river,
                          a rectory, orchard
whose blooms touch the sky

             & the ground—
                          was it Circe’s sent Odysseus
                                                    back to the sea,
or a memory (hazy)
             of lonely Penelope’s?

Jessica Tyson Huset (she/her) earned her MFA at the University of Washington. Her poetry has appeared in Apeiron Review, Crab Creek Review, Rip-Rap, and The Acorn Review. She is a two-time Pushcart Prize nominee and currently lives in Southern California with her husband and cat.

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