Two ants tow half a caterpillar,
pulling against each other, dropping
the load, stick legs, bodies
Though your bones break every time you’re moved
in your hospital bed, your body lives.
Grandmother and her hydrocephalic
son died after thirty hours of labour;
the contractions stopped when blood
loss and exhaustion killed her with the child.
Near the stream a young red-shouldered hawk
screams and screams, kee-ah. Another
flies toward it carrying a frog. If
imagination was as strong as life
I’d be that frog, I’d look down and say,
“I’m flying, I’ve turned into a bird.”
July 19, 2008