(Postpartum)
Climbing the moon-washed stair
to the empty hall, and all
the unrequited beds.
To let a child go into mystery.
To let distance come between you
and skin over.
To know only what you are told.
These beggar hands gasping, cup the air.
CONTEXT
August 21, 2010
Albemarle, NC
Please let me find the doorway and step through it.
Thank you for the great unwinding.
