No. 22 in Rilke Series

I find you there in all things—

Santiago in memory, prays
Mary over Mare, and I,
maybe five, wondered at light. How
the mountain gave him reason
to sing for his brother, Miguel, O

hermano. That bullets didn’t pierce
the vortex, Guapa. Keep love inside.

You. Like this as he bent
bones from Her eye, I,

maybe five, prayed—

Speak me inside
pine. Breathe my body.
Tongue-want or Nothing.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s