All Infants Have Blue Eyes

about motherhood

you are crying mother

your tears are like clay

soft and sticky

you are bending down milking clouds

too heavy because of rain

you prop up the sun upon the blue sky

 

your warm chest is a full bucket

the child presses his soles

on your breast’s handle

his hands are kneading your round shoulders

you are the burnt brick wall in the front room

 

soon you will reach the girder

the baby sticking to your cracked skin

will cry out for the first time mother

he will fall down from your arms

snowdrops will raise their heads at your feet

snowy bells will announce

another spring

 

the earth’s flowers cling to you

your smile opens once again for your son

amid thorns