May 24, 2011

Purple

You are My Favorite Animals is a collection of poems I hope to write about (and for) Eva and David. This is the first, so far. It still needs editing.

It is spring, and my eyes seek purple among the crowded treetops,
candy-bright, plucky purple fanned from crisp red buds,
hung on branches stemmed from trunks
rooted in the earth.

That purple comes of soil and sun and showers.
It is borne from dirt down low and makes me wonder
what will come of you,
the girl who scratches branches
‘cross the grass-specked dirt in our front yard,
who drags her fresh-washed tights through the mud where the slide dumps out
when the sun shines after rain.

What will come of you in the unknown, unmade years?

I might hold you now,
scratch your back,
trail fingers through your hair.
My heart might swell and pinch,
press my voice down
close and secret
at the force of you.
I might hug you with my mother might.

To me you’re like the wee round grapes you pamper, so sincere,
pinched within the beak of finger and thumb.
You are careful and precise. You say,
Aw, look mama, a baby one,
and I echo.

You are my perfect sweet and baby grape. I could eat you up,
pop you in and roll you down, down
to where you once grew in the secret
dark and deep red part of me, just as small and whole.
I could eat you up (but I won’t).

You are purple in the spring.
I will always look for you, and
you will always be my secret.