SQN - Sine Qua Non - Issue 1 - Journal - Page 108
RUNNER-UP — POETRY
Jen Karetnick
We Are Each Other’s Harvest
After Tolerance by Carlos Antonio Rancaño
Oak-eyed mother, gobbling mother-eye,
waiting mother-hands, motherwoman
like morningrise wrapped richly in
right linen and right wool, you watch us.
Waiting mother-hands, motherwoman,
if there is milk, it must hold a hunger off
like morningrise wrapped richly in
satin aiming to enfold with liquid joy.
If there is milk, it must hold a hunger off
over what wants to crumble you down.
Satin aiming to enfold with liquid joy,
these kneaded limbs receive the kiss of silk.
What wants to crumble you down?
Arms are water. Not one is made of steel.
These kneaded limbs receive the kiss of silk.
Beautiful flaws and terrible ornaments,
arms are water. Not one is made of steel.
Each body has its art, its precious prescribed pose:
beautiful flaws and terrible ornaments
as if nothing would ever bend.
Each body has its art, its precious prescribed pose.
There shall be such islanding from grief
as if nothing would ever bend from it.
Scuttle off ghosts that come.
There shall be such islanding from grief
in the limping afternoon.
Scuttle off ghosts that come.
Love’s another departure.
85
