By Audre Lord
Otter and quaking aspens
the set of a full cleansing moon
castle walls crumble
in silence
visions trapped by the wild stone
lace up the sky pale electric fire
no sound
but a soft expectation of birds
calling the night home.
Half asleep bells
mark a butterfly’s birth
over the rubble
I crawl into dawn
corn woman bird girl sister
calls from the edge of a desert
where it is still night
to tell me her story
survival.
Rock speaks a rooster language
and the light is broken
clear.
