poem for march 30th anxiety attack

This evening in March
fear is lighting itself in my belly.
It gutters there
sending up a spined shadow on the wall.
That hungry expanse
dulls the walls of my belly.
A sleepless darkness, mother
of subterranean tremor,
a dessicate mouth
open as if in speech
but black in its silence.

All along the path today
the first flowers cried their lives,
each petal bright
as a sung word.
Now darkness fills each over
and March trembles at its center
like a snapped cord.