Walking 2010; Collage & Colored Pencil.
h6 x w6 in. Image from sketchbook.
I.
Change.
That’s the game right?
To pull myself
From yet another slumbering womb.
No dreams of spots and stripes,
No bushy tail lifting my skirt —
Solid conformity.
The dream of becoming forgotten.
II.
No comfort here,
as I breathe his last breath.
I want to give it back.
Fill him.
A piñata with wings.
The eternal child as memory distilled,
A dream of love never-ending—
But we don’t, I don’t, we can’t, let’s leave.
Summer 2005
Of a Swallow 
One Comment
I can relate to that.