Humvee rattles bones
shakes out seeds of this once
ripe
fruit.
© 2010 Joanne Elliott
A Mother’s Love
The path strewn
The path strewn
with rotten fruit
of your womb
maddens your mind
tears open the wound
that was your heart
binds you to the moon
and to Her upon it
who stands barefoot
above the desert
waiting.
© 2010 Joanne Elliott
© 2010 Joanne Elliott
i was chuckling at my own jostling journeys in the first when you second sobered me quite much....
ReplyDeleteHumvees scare me--to me they're built to intimidate, not transport--and your second poem cuts through so much, to that darker side of the maternal that has so much control over all of us who serve the moon with our wax and wane. Fine duo here, Joanne.
ReplyDeleteYour second piece speaks to me--there are moments in motherhood that can be terrible--and yet we manage to live through them, to love, and to learn
ReplyDeleteYour second piece speaks to me... As a mother I feel it... Nicely done !
ReplyDeletethe first is funny. the second i read several times. quite lovely.
ReplyDelete