Poetry

Her cries echo like the constant swallowing / of broken waves. She lies motionless, / swaddles her child

Baby Clothes (Unworn). // The sign itself / (the parenthesis of course) / stops me briefly

he comes to me out / of his life separate from mine, clever / & clean as a shoot in the spring.

Two languages / she formed / two paths / that did not meet.

My heart, doubled, looks for the yellowest / petals, the sturdiest stem.

while the nurse empties / the mess I’ve made / of motherhood

but I had a son / better to be the wound / than the bullet I tell him

your heart rate / is measured: // clop clop / of a small horse / in an unbroken field.

pearl bones strung / with a floss of nerve

My daughter dropped the birthday / watch I gave her far away, in the lake.

How we disoriented / each other within the measure