you imagined yourself a mother
as you leaned into the future
then you wake up dreaming
and walking toward yourself
at dusk, stars start like beacons
to show us a new underworld
at emergent touch, birds rise
in the dawn like smoke signals
one sadness sparks another
as devotion returns slowly
in careful curls like a seared
page... tell me I won't forget
how I know something now
& hold it secret in my belly
________
Pic: Summer anemones. Radiology Gardens with L.
1 comment:
This has such a mystical tone about it. The metaphor of devotion in the last stanza is so well-crafted. The alliteration of "careful curls" --the hard C sound followed by the smooth R's--actually seems to make the reader create those very things as they read the words. Beautiful!
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