|
How Small You Look in the Bed |
Like a boy in underwear with
his mother dishing up bowls
of healing, salty food, strawberries
inky red from the farm, the juice of love
the first sunflower smiling at you from
the garden's chaotic western shore
and a bandage big as a badger wrapped
and bloody around your long thin foot
you turned on your stomach, sheet over brow
how hard it is to see you like this
now, tiny and huddled in a warm room
as the sun goes down on a distant beach
and the jazz station plays soft harmony
with your snores, tears of my love dressing
the tender buttons and fragile blossoms
inside, where you are a boy with your first
stitches and it is always bloody summer
copyright 2016
Viola
Weinberg |
