The picture is from a photo album
my mother request on her death bed.
She is the girl sitting on the dock.
This poem is for her.
my mother request on her death bed.
She is the girl sitting on the dock.
This poem is for her.
That is the question.
I am like a word
that has been overused.
Daughter.
Sister.
Cousin.
Friend.
Student.
Girlfriend.
Boyfriend.
Member.
Stranger.
Mother.
Father.
Aunt.
Uncle.
Teacher.
Expert.
Ruler.
Grandmother.
Grandfather.
Confidant.
Castaway.
Enemy.
What do I purchase
in exchange for my integrity
and my freedom?
asha
Near the South Galactic Pole
between Cetus and Sculptor
beyond the universe of naked eye
the Silver Coin Galaxy
shimmers—
to its west
near the galactic equator and ecliptic intersection
the diffuse nebulae M20 and M8
stellar sphinxes,
guardians at the solstice point of our sun
shimmer—
on my earth
wild roses perfume this afternoon’s rain—
on my earth
in the 21st century after Christ
after countless way-showers and seed-sowers
the only revolution left
is love.
asha