providence

(written on Friday, July 6, 2007, before dawn)

He learned from her to touch the wind
in billows of an emerald sea of grass.

She learned from him to tell the season
in shadows slanting in the light of day.

He learned from her to hear the moon whisper
on rose petals so not to wake the gentile dew.

She learned from him to grasp the mane
of galloping mount bound off the rutted way.

He learned from her to taste the tears
of frightened child in want of safe embrace.

She learned from him to touch the pulse
of hearts dancing to a common beat of life.

They learned a providence is found in keeping company
and bore the fruitful bounty no lonesome passage could.

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woman

(written on Wednesday, August 30, 2006, early in the morning)

What fiction you are, woman!
You redden earth with wet iron
and salt seas with tears–
a spring of liquid mysteries.

But you’re neither the chalice your father raises up,
nor the pot of honey at rainbow’s end bar and grill.
Perfume yourself to dance but still I’ll smell
the yeasty creases under mother’s breasts
that sweet splashes of suckled milk couldn’t hide.

I tried to love you in manly ways, but serving
your sentences of bread and water is over now,
leaving you and me just old accomplices.

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