“This Little Light
of Mine”
“You are
My Sunshine”
and “Blue Moon”
in the afternoons
and she joins me
with her
aaahhhhs
as if
she knew
the words
or any,
as if
she were here
now, her soul purpose,
to be singing
about her
candle heart
shining
or her
smile or
my smile
or the blue moon
every so often
no longer alone
in the sky
hearing our prayers
for
love
love
and
more love
as it seems to
be turning
to gold
behind the cloud
of her tongue
just big enough
to stick
out
at me
and wriggle.

The mother picked her baby gently up from the bassinet and nursed her in bed. Baby spat the milk back into the breast. Mother got off the bed and took the dirty diaper from its bin and smothered it onto the baby’s bottom. Water sucked up the drain and filled the tub where the bodies were covered. The sun returned to its usual spot behind gray clouds. The man walked toe-heel, toe-heel down the sidewalk with the newspaper under his arm, turned around, and returned it to the machine that spat back two quarters into his palm. Back home in the kitchen, the tea spout sucked the Earl Gray into it’s belly and the yolks their shells. In bed, the couple rested in each other’s arms, their mouths turned to cotton, their heads too.

Happy Birthday here’s a primrose
Yellow raindrops in the grey light
Mother’s daughter scrubbing the clothes
Skin cracked all winter, no sleep at night

despite cloud changing light
from cell to cell, divide and multiply
plus me, plus him
numbers appear in her fingerprints