I have no children
and I wonder why that is so
I also wonder if I ever
was built for that –
built like the machine
my own mother was
that fit in the otherworldly
groove of my father
that otherworldly groove
made of secret things
that filled my heart with ice.
I needed to know he did
not see me but he saw
a dream or really a vision
of a bride at twenty-five
like my mother the pageant queen
was in her wedding lace –
dad lost a glove between
the church and the main hall
in all the photographs
that was taken in the gardens
he is wearing one glove.
These glaciers have eyes,
the nape of a babe’s neck,
placenta, a patella, a personality –
we have given them trees,
numbers and a womb ceremony
left ice trailing in their wake.
The coelacanth knows
these waters – they winter
here every year and they
know what the meaning
of what a portrait of a still life is.
You mimic a comet
while your arms stretch out
like chords searching for
the harmonic details of God
the innerness of wilderness
the giddiness found in nature
therein you have decided
lies history – the world
and knowledge of a child –
you milk its worth
its life and freshness.
the title/intro
is very great nice piece of writing.
my favorite line:
“I have no children
and I wonder why that is so”
Good writing.
keep writing
thanks