Christi Krug
is the author of two books for preschoolers and has been a frequent contributor to Writer’s Digest. Her fiction, poetry and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in a variety of publications, including Insight, the Fossil, and Halfway Down the Stairs.
Second to writing, she loves coaching new writers and facilitating workshops in Vancouver, Washington.
Website.
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Towel Chant
Stepping out of the bathtub and here is
The belly of the woman who is me.
It is you I speak to
Who gave birth
So bravely and so well
Roundly knowing, with times of empty and full
And turnings to be trusted.
You have dropped fruit and wait now, a mound of rich soil
A winter oven, a hearth and holding space
A tide-smoothed shell whose pearls have been emptied
Letting the world gather and polish its treasures.
I will not forget how you carry and swell and fold
Soft with remembering
And underneath, the muscle of silence.
Amphibiguity
I need: a bumper,
Protective camouflage
A different skin.
I need: a rain fly,
A wetsuit,
Cool sand.
Make me slippery and scaled,
For underground canyons
And lakes both.
For caving the dark and ancient.
For being other than what I have always assumed.
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