inspired by the novel by Barbara Gowdy
She forages in the night,
soothing matriarch,
time to dropthe tunnel that has been dug.
Wandering circles, this desert's cue,
of birth scent dorsal
and low to ground.
Sand like silk in dribbles and drops.
New born suckles
in shadow memory transfer -
hair unscathed in deliberation and
ears bent in innocent trace
as she falls.
*
The exhalation of shadows
is how darkness spreads.
This is death as creation.
Friday, August 10, 2007
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