Luck
throw my childsakes in the air and comes down lummi sticks,
French braids, hard sharp pebbles under thick small foot
raining church hours, mystery airmail, tomes of antiquity
barricading sunshine
a rip-edged bright tin rattle to the clunk shush of the
washboard
learning underfoot, I am small white blond thing
inside looking out, outside looking in?
sleeping through rain, I am mosquito bait huddled
a mango tang to the sauce, the pie, the raw bare open hands
chairs to the march, potluck collecting, the hour
straightens the week
window bars to focus my cross-eyes, brave, scared, rhymes on
a two-inch balance beam, everything I learned to unlearn
No comments:
Post a Comment