Friday, January 22, 2016

Reflecting on Love

Her flesh was so neatly trimmed about her pale bones
and her clothes so fit
you'd think her angry.

Where did she bend to sit peacefully to think?

Perhaps some man held her,
raised her before she wanted
and made her cry?

But since she's straddled it
more than she has memory of
and dared to love
and come into her dusted house
a pregnancy
that has untrimmed her finally,
this child
sometimes startles her belly
and wakes her with suggestions
of the cold space...

Listen, Mother, her husband teased as he kissed her
in the good day, I married you for your curves,
but six months more of this softness will do me in.

She valued it to blush and giggle.
She tugged on his collar.

And when he left her safe in their blessed peace,
she waited for the baby to stir,
she read a book about child care.
And she waited.
And she thought:
what comes for me that I can ask enter,
if I am neither beautiful nor brilliant,
but love?

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