Which one might you be
What is it that
a disbelieving –
a present, fleeting, and entitled
might want this trinity
to say?

Are you the giggling
that the steady hands of youth finally
applied themselves to? –
that finally threaded needle …
Do you fail to see
that what you didn’t have the
wisdom to create within an unformed womb
was only threaded, taken from the skein by you …
you who cannot now foresee
your weaving’s doom?

Are you the conformed repository
of rounded wisdom? …
The mother, birthed of child
that wraps her truth up in a girdle
and then tries
to even and preserve
some length upon her children’s
flowing lines

Or does your countenance sag here
at the end of those last days;
even as with shaking talons
you must slice a life from day?
Do you sometimes wish your sisters
would not unravel some new life that
you – resolute – must then decide
to cut away?

Which one might you be
Why is it that we must define
a triad of perspective in this way …
when every fruit within it’s time
knows it will swell to bursting,
and then die?

November, 2007


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