to be a husk
returned to soil
by way of river
over falls
& under bed.
what good
is this? someone
asks & one
answer is another
voice, yes
what good
is this.
no place to begin
but again
Tag: cycles
Ave
Maria
o mother, we say, sighing in that way
where breath rhymes with bother
o mother me
the way you hold the betrayal
and promise of arrival here
in that constantly revolving womb
and it’s like this, isn’t it? when you
bring anyone anyway closer to living
how all they can see is all the dying
it takes to stay with it all, the beating
drum of you––