Wednesday, February 18, 2009

a dream [ver 1]

the tired peasant mother of a mother
calloused hands with grooves and furrows
small light feet float her into the field
her arms and back carry the memory of
two generations toiled in labor

hoe turning earth and birthing it again
an annual funeral for weeds and mined minerals
surfacing soft soil for the seasonal seeds
and blessing burnt brown sod with the sheen of the sea

feelings of finality fill her tired peasant eyes
as the last of the crops are sown
unwilling to collect the coming crop of Cancer
and weather the wintery blows of the wicked wind
she floats with sure footed rhythm
back to the wooden house that belongs to unfolding mothers

buried that fall with the fallen leaves
and the fuel for a future funeral
a wry smile unwilting across her wrinkled face
laid in the loam of an unknown reap

waking
my pregnant head in your lap
your fingers ploughing my hair
turning up the words to breathe life
into impending verses and idolatry

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