I See a Woman

I See a Woman

I see a woman
Standing as a rock stands
Washed pale by the darts
Of sea spray
And by pyramids
Erected against moonlight.
She stands very still
And is soft and childlike
But packed within.

I see a woman
Sailing as a ship sails
On open water
Bouncing and tossing
Now, the spit of dock
Is forsaken and the beaming
Moon is lost.
I see a ship laboring a hero’s
Journey, doing well to cut
Against the waves at just
The right time.

I see a woman
Dried up,
A desert.

I see a woman
Skipped as a rock is skipped
Across a putrid pond.
Her hair is cut so that
She looks like one of
The broken little boys.

I see a woman
Digging in the dirt,
Dirt caked and blackened
And covered in soot,
As if she had been fighting
The prairie fires.

I see a woman
Crawling through
A narrow cave,
The walls of which
Reach down
To ruffle against her hair
And make it grow
Again.

I see a woman
Buried as a rock is buried,
Gestated and searching
With eyes clawed out
And not yet replaced.
A wandering is she,
And out behind the olive
Trees she stumbles now
And is alone.

I see a woman
Emerging as a mole emerges
Her nose sniffing
And unpacking
And from her back the dirt
Now tumbles,
Gathering, un-trodden
For the next.

I see a woman
Hard as rock is hard
And packed, now, without.
What deep depths
And bright heights
Lie waiting in the folds
And what new woman
This way comes.

I see a woman
Making love as if for the first time.
As she rides, her hair is down
And she touches her own body,
Eyebrows, chest, stomach, thighs
Then feet,
She holds her feet like the feet
Of someone else
Or many, many elses.

I see a woman
She is she and I am I
And I want her to hold my hand
And walk me in a circle through
The prairies and rock fields
And point out the ones she knows
And tell me their names, their stories,
Her stories, the stories, each story
Just now beginning to grow.

More: Poetry

[I took the above picture in Larmor-Baden, France in 2014]



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