My mother’s hand:
Weather-worn, small,
Folded in mine, ridged,
Sculpted by moment, and love.
My second baby:
Cupped captive in the womb,
Kept safe, mysterious, hiccups,
Enveloped expectations.
My beloved:
Woven and wonderful relief
with the pain of belonging
To each and every tide together.
The chin of my dog:
Gray and toothy, pleading,
almond-eyed trust I cannot
Imagine departing in so short a time.
A raspberry:
Plucked plump and filled
With light and love, sunny seeds
That help a sweet-sour life to grow.
The perpetual heart:
Pinned to all things yet
Fleeting as all hearts are,
viscera-bound to beat the everlasting.
