Poetics

Bird (For Ma’)

(for Ma’, holding me up for my first photograph)

 

1987 and you are smiling

I’m unsure about the flash of the camera

where birds lurk, their bright feathers spread

red powder across your smiling face,

I’m as high as your hands can fathom me

which is at the beginning of an eternal beam,

can you see the birds (I have your eyes)

like I can hear them? in the long lemongrass

the red on your shirt, the seams of your heart

is nothing compared to them,

this is only the start

and you are beautiful as a bird.

 

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