Four Poems

 

Mother

You held me up amidst beautiful
blood, red and fine you fed me
full of yourself, and I consumed
and mirrored the grey-eyed,
blonde ringlet-fibers of you.

You grew me slowly, turning
your mind in knots over who you'd
call me: the wriggling blend, brand
youandhim. "Sam" or "Charlotte" he said,
but you listened for me,

And in your dream I announced myself,
a small voice from amidst pink-blanket-
bundle. Your mind became pregnant with the mouth-
shape of my self-chosen name, your tongue
nodded approval when you spoke it.

My toes wiggled warm to the tickle
of your voice. I kissed you back with lips
blind and wee, thanked you with my foot
on your bladder, my heartbeat echoing yours.

 

Circle

Don't want to
but should walk
about the world,
touch her many
faces, whether
stone or soft,
soils or waters,
creatures or peoples.

Because I know
her, she will wear
my fingerprints
away with bleeding,
blend me with blown
leaves to the wind,
sink me to the bottom
of her sandy wells
until I erode, vapor
into her--
too many nights
of passing through
her green old mind.

 

Youth

I'd like to, with a blink,
go back into then, before the voices
of tongue were separate worlds, when we shared
the sun, water, and air all the same
in our skins.

I'd see everything green
in its beginnings, the earth-foal new
and dripping with God's palm-sweat,
and in the oceans of Eden-flowers we'd
plant human bulbs.

 

Longing

Scalding eyes
of galaxies crowd
the sky's black-
cat face.

See these suns
dimly eyelashed
with unseen
planets.

Worlds and worlds
swirl silent
and always far
from your tiny fingers.