Oh I am inside the wasp's nest now looking out!
Now I am a single hard-boiled egg.
A cricket, a crow.
Now I am a bald eagle hunting you over the oxbow.
Can you feel my hunger?
Can you feed my hunger.
Whose husband am I? Whose help-meet?
Whose body is my classroom? Whose thighs tighten on me coming. Who muffles her cries against my throat coming.
Two years now, a single maple leaf wedged between panes of glass in the bedroom window.
The world I am loath to disturb. For which I became a song.
A lesser song of a lesser god in a lesser heaven.
Oh but imagine me as violets!
Imagine me at dusk trembling touching the violets.
I tremble to touch you.
In the swamp off Flat Iron Road a red-winged blackbird, first in almost a decade, reminding me how hard we try, coming back to us over and over in image, story and vow.
Oh my God let me learn to let love be love and joy, joy.