|
These
Bach cello suites tap the bones
of remembrance, tickle my teats with sensational sorrow,
lost buds, fields gone fallow.
I
think of how there are no tomorrows
in which I'll give birth.
Now, it's not pregnancy or the hope of it,
no new bouncing baby to come.
Only
middle age girth makes me look maternal.
Menopause has left not one
kernel of hope in my old ovaries.
I'm out to pasture, a sagging nag
who's never tasted a fruition
of love, that cornucopia of sharing
the labor with him, the supreme moment,
that most fertile union
together, hand in hand, eye to eye,
smile upon smile, kiss of joy,
lips and minds met
in the shared ecstasy of birth,
seeing our bodies fused in new creation
come to the occasion of our rebirth together
in one
being
made from us,
blended in a new person
Those who live that moment together
can't know how desolate never to.
These Bach cello suites grate on old bones.
Daniela
Gioseffi is an American Book Award winning poet who has published
ten books of poetry and prose. Her latest books of poetry
are Eggs in the Lake (Boa Editions, Ltd.) ; Word Wounds and
Water Flowers and Going On Poems 2000 (Via Folios @ Purdue
University.) She has won two New York State Council for the
Arts grant awards in poetry and published numerous poems in
anthologies and literary magazines such as The Paris Review,
The Nation, Chelsea, Choice, Ms. Poetry East, Prairie Schooner,
and Antaeus. She edits Wise Women's Web, now PoetsUSA.com,
a magazine of literature and commentary, nominated for Best
of the Web, 1998.
|
