the nature of the quiet
(slow turning wrap around silence)
is that its delicate first impression
should not faze your glassy eyes
your heavy head
heavy bones
heavy body
worn from months of wear
in sinking into the
soft side of the deep morning dew
remember what we used to say
about birth:
in fighting for life
i will throw off my armour
and follow you streamside,
i will trip over sheets of green
duck beneath the willow trees
hold kindness
in the crook of my knee
and breathe breathe breathe in
a new beginning
the nature of the quiet
is that it isn’t so hard to think of your
three week young december body
as being born again
