Simples
Simples
A crone, she croons and crows a newborn mite
into ataxia, worries it with dill,
spits small deft prayers at horrid eyes. The sight
of so much skin not grown yet into still
unsettles; is there time to reunite,
in burgeoning child, what demons stoop to kill?
A young girl’s next – an eye, imagined spite,
requires, she says, the herbal woman’s skill
applied ab ovo in a simple rite.
As hen’s egg stencils her, I note the spill
of pleistocene Nativity to my right
(Three Wise Men meet Triceratops) and will
her better; past the garden garage light
a sudden flock of doves, disturbed, takes flight.
A crone, she croons and crows a newborn mite
into ataxia, worries it with dill,
spits small deft prayers at horrid eyes. The sight
of so much skin not grown yet into still
unsettles; is there time to reunite,
in burgeoning child, what demons stoop to kill?
A young girl’s next – an eye, imagined spite,
requires, she says, the herbal woman’s skill
applied ab ovo in a simple rite.
As hen’s egg stencils her, I note the spill
of pleistocene Nativity to my right
(Three Wise Men meet Triceratops) and will
her better; past the garden garage light
a sudden flock of doves, disturbed, takes flight.
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