the river bears children

his mother’s dark lament

quem mollibus herbis
naides impositum lacrimis unxere parentis

In this hour I was the white son in my father’s death. In blue showers
the night wind came from the hill; the dark lament of the mother.

the first mother’s flesh

To be the earth
to hold you tightly in my embrace
to bring you bitter scents of herbs
hungers of roots
to be the earth
to whisper in your ear
it’s me
mother and wife
to overcome fear
to be the earth
to crawl in sleep
through chalk pits
to hold your head
in my palms of clay
oh lips and eyes
dear feet and hands
turn happily to dust…