dribbling on my arm
I move the babe
from my breast
nine month’s sway
serving their breakfasts
in summer heat
kindergarten gate
my childhood
as her hand came free
what approached the nine months
for you
I let in
cherry blossoms fall
breast feeding
into her smile
her eighth month…
mid-summer grapes
plump on the vines
Strolling past sunflowers
at eight months
now she accepts their nods.
Dandelions
their pregnancy
to the whim of the wind.
Interstate bus
near term she rubs her face
on the window mist.
home opened for sale
the way they scattered
our children’s toys.
