Evolve

Sedimentary rocks alter:
Rhinestones are two-faced,
Shimmering in every direction.
You think the spotlight is here
And it is there.


Ion bombardment reshapes:
Little metal lobster claw clasps
Come apart
A dead friend’s necklace
Never worn.


Plow earth subsurface:
A hummingbird flits about;
She has no weight.
Grow hooves and sink into the ground
Become a heavy creature.


Molecular replenishment:
Leave behind air and water.
Water is a circle anyway,
Fresh snow in winter
Turns to summer’s salty ocean.


No more oceans
Only boxes that someone else
Opened, closed,
Re-sealed.
Like lips.









Jennifer MacBain-Stephens is an emerging poet who was recently published in Issue #10 of Superstition Review, Emerge Literary Journal, Red Savina Review, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, and Burningwood Literary Journal. She has poems forthcoming in The Apeiron Review, Rufous City Review, and Iowa City’s 2013 Poetry in Public Project. She lives in Iowa City, IA.