Monday, June 28, 2010

Turning Up the Heat

Nestled in the creases
Salt and sweat
New dirt
How did we forget
This summer season
So persistent

Like a drunken mother
Lurching toward us
Speaking too loudly
Stumbling as she
Reaches to embrace
Not her fault
The poison

Love is there
As strong as ever
Maybe stronger
Tinged by panic
Underlying
Then – is that a shrug?

I see her cut her losses
Let it go –
Like childbirth
All the waves and storms
And fiery ruptions
What the hell
It’s meant to be
This purge
This cleansing

We may be ants
Upon the elephant
Stars in the distant sky
Embryos inside the mother
Our fate to sink or swim
Is it too late
To change?

2 comments:

Moineau En France said...

never... love all these poems, stirling. xooxoxo

Stirling Davenport said...

Thank you, poetess sublime.