When I used to shake a branch to douse your pram with blossom, was it a kind of caim, a ring of blessednessI tried to wrap you in? You chuckledtill your white curls shivered. Or when I lifted you right up close to the fragrant rose, was it to inoculate against all that iscrass and coarse? You pulledand crushed […]
Thou’s welcome, Wean! Mishanter fa’ me,
If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy Mamie.
/ your name is the print
/ love has made in the world,
/ your body the growing home
/ your spirit has made upon…