99. to the mama of trivettes

if you count to three | it’s 3

if you count to four | it’s more

the processes of making | make

the processes of faking | fake

as you can see | you have 3

daughters | 2 grandsons

never mixing genders in the

generations engendered | year

by year | and you can count

each of these | three | or two

by the distance | of their persons

from the reach | of your kisses

(or arms | in the unlikely event

of hugging | the smallest of them

hard enough | for him to squeal)

and you realize | we believe

you cannot reach | even with great

effort far enough to | pull each

from whatever distance | they sit

away from you | in space and time

 

as you count | you also count on

the arrival of a growing | boy to

that space of your | habitation

holding him in | confinement or

high regard | (the difference

between these | becoming more

and more | difficult with time)

meaning how time | ages the

body and changes | the mind

until one little boy | is a man

busy rubbing coins | together

to make fire | busy enough with

the erratic thoughts of | men

yet also pulled | to the embrace

of your arms | with such force

one might believe | those arms

themselves | drew him toward

your envelopment | of his self

who will feel again | small and

held onto | and not given away

 

or the time | of the body of these

children will grow | so long you

will find yourself | unburdened

by the presence | of babies again

around you | and their milky skin

revealing the source | of their sole

and fortifying | nourishment and

you will fret | as oft one does | at

the age you have met | though it

would be only in that achievement

that you existed | synchronously

with these new | and small beings

proceeding outwardly | from you

who are | the point of departure

of all these people | revealed

only via the presence of | you

beforehand | for you are now

the sole spring | of the family

that source from which | all have

come | and all will continue forth