7
Thicknesses of vines
here stand for the years—
trees have rings but time
is complicated.
8
The well collects rain.
The rain collects tears.
In a cloisonné vase no bigger
than my nail, I gather my own.
9
He lined his closet
with pictures I drew:
an animal with a limp,
a feather, a rotary phone.
10
Last night I twined
a length of yarn
around my wrist.
Remember?
11
In the kettle, water boiled
to a pitch. I poured some
into a cup with a small
tumble of leaves.
12
I tell the wind, Let me rest.
Let me take some ease.
Hammock me in your arms
for a change.
[LAG-other-response date=”10 30 2013″ url=”https://www.vianegativa.us/2013/10/peace-process/” title=”Via Negativa: Peace Process”]