to quake
the Earth rumbles, still and
silent and slithering. its
muscles stretch, quivering
like a leopard’s as it lies in wait.
her flank ripples, stalks of grass
fluttering on smooth, dry skin
in the downwind. her breast rises
and falls: her breath
rises and falls. ants Ants
ants crawl on her back, worming their
way through her mane
as they settle
and take root, to feed or to flower.
her pelt reverberates, as if
to the drum of her lungs, and
she growls low and slow.
nose twitches,
hind legs bunch, and
she falls, mid-pounce.
Haeun (Regina) Kim is a student writer from South Korea. She has participated in the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, the Adroit Journal Summer Mentorship, the Sewanee Young Writers’ Conference, and the SUNHOUSE Summer Writing Mentorship. Her work has been recognized by Bennington College, the National Council of Teachers of English, and Bow Seat, and has appeared or is forthcoming in Rust & Moth, Diode Poetry Journal, and Apprentice Writer, among others. Outside of writing, she enjoys art and ballet.