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HELLO

[MEET THE NEW JOURNAL]


a rare moment
of quietude
brought the old stranger
blessed
in for tea
anda gourd
and some silt in my teeth
their twin moons
charcoal eyes smile
black and white
most ancient of souls
baba i have missed the
viscera of your cries
i lost the sinew box
that contains them
and my feet
will not fit in this tiniest
of seal skin
porcupine quill
mother's hair was coarse raven black
and her round was my solace
that smelled of dried fish
razor sharp sentiment
icen recollection of sweet warm blood at my feet
when i see that archaic - i miss you -

12:56 p.m. - 2007-01-04
2 comments

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