Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Holding A Newborn

Irene wrote "Rethinking Myth" and posted her poem on her blog Orange Is A Fruit on April 13, 2014:

Rethinking Myth

For a while all roads led to
him, it’s like that in love,
all branches joined to
a trunk. The shining
afterthought. Deepening
into bark. Yeast underfoot.

It’s like when my son cradled
his brother, newborn;
prefigures its own myth
that became true somehow.
I don’t know what else to say,
chainsawed, beautiful grain.


This is how I responded in duet:

Holding A Newborn

So I see you hold
this poem like your son held his
bro’, newborn, fragrant.
That’s what I mean – just
like that – like moss in the mist,
such a green beyond
green, all flourescent
and deep and you are deep too
when you are like this.

April 13, 2014 2:36 PM

1 comment:

  1. I'm startled when I read this. Every time you repost it seems. Remembering after forgetting. My memory has holes in it.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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