She-
A rosary of berries.
Her fingers
Juice stained and sweet.
I converse with her at the spring.
I drink rain water
Pooled
From the nape of her neck.
December
Bees wick nectar from her skin,
They anoint her lips with honey-
Shelter me from the winter,
And I will build you a house,
With seven Chimneys,
And a fire in every room.
Warm me, when I am cold
And I will cloth you in the winter.
For your feet
Seal skins.
For your middle
Tanned hide of dear.
For your shoulders
The fur of bears.
Woman of the hen house
Woman of the hearth fire
Flock and fold
Dear one
Dear one
Dear on of my heart.
Bare for me my child
And in return
As life springs forth from you
In spring, I will coax life from the ground
And in thanks and in supplication-
I will bear home those fruits to you.
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