Poem Starting with a Line by Jenny Browne If you're not with us, you're dew. You bring the amaryllis down with your heaviness, and you spill into the ear of the flower, spill over the edges of the leaves and run away with the reflection of the moon. We cannot reach you when you are like this. This is not an ultimatum; it is the quickening of our fear. Maybe it is that our humor is so dry that we crackle like leaves in winter. But if we are thirsty, then there is not enough of you. When you depart from the ears of leaves you have no voice to sing to the foxes slinking in the grass. If you do not stay with us, then you are sinking back into the soil. You are already something we thought we knew.