I think we are shadows moving
in dark houses
Beyond the panes
of the house next door
the shadow of a child
runs through a room
But the morning is made
of complete light leaning
into every crevice
spacious
The trees’ flowers
hold clusters of snow
toss the light back in pieces
into the wholeness
Last night I dreamed that my mother
was pregnant It was
a big surprise I was wondering
How old is she? then
I guess it can happen
even now
My mother was worried
about her body Could it
withstand that
again?
But I thought A baby!
kind of like when I
was a child and
begging my mother to
have another so I
could hold it
I slept late
When I woke and raised the
blinds here was this light
It comes pouring in
a wash a wave gentle
filling basin cove bay
inlet of backyard
narrow driveways all the airy spaces
divided
by power lines
and branches of trees their leaves
just beginning
Poetry - ISSUE #27