While You Turn My Mother Into Your Handbag

by | Sep 28, 2011 | Blog, My Poems

You trade the sun

for sudden moons –

the reflections
on your shovel


into soil and otter.

In the moment
you kneel,

speculations rise
like glass

from your skin.

The shine of diamond –

crows plant themselves

in the place
of violets

blacken the earth.

(That soft break

from violet to

I learned what it meant
for words to sound
sexual –

sulk and sea,