MiPo Poetry Board Best of 2002

Spinning

Could you only dare
the world would be at your feet

But is it not, Mother?
There, green with a new year
gray with a wealth of bone

timeless, trapped in amber
poised in endless flight, the smallest
infinite death, hung round the necks
of women I will never be-
beauty is not consoled by immortality.

That, is so much Bull Shit

We laugh together
because she invented me
the wish stone of her love.
Created with her innocent lust
a smooth cream, a million strong
march into her red world and spun it.

Are you afraid, daughter?

I am not gold and gleam only
in certain light. You are biased
and fear for my hunger, my need.
I can not weave a child of words
to change my infertility. I have tried
and still I'm left undone.

That is not the only truth

I do not love this day, a Mother
seer, blush with Irish Gypsy blood
and wont to quote Astrologist...

You are twin, your own child.
Raise her for the comfort and joy
that she may bring that is legacy"

I wander away. Mother's voice
creates lulls and swells, soft
with good intent
warm with frank sincerity.
I wrap arms around myself, protection
from her hopes for me, the wet garden air.

Next poem by Coleen Shin

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