In the Graveyard of my Body

In the graveyard of my body,
I bury the bean of my sister.
Sometimes she’s a cherry.
Peach pit. Cilantro seed.
She branches new from
Vine or trunk or stem
Bearing white petals
Around a black eye
Or lemon fruit or
Giant butter beans
I stew with ham
In which I dip corn bread
To stuff my mouth
With my favorite love song
Sopping wet and simple.

Other times she is mica,
Flecked stone full of mirrors,
The bone carved owl
In her Illinois grave,
A house sparrow egg
Thrown from the nest.
Fools gold pours
From my heart while I sleep.
A dark duo of whos
Measure the distance.
See the drab bird alone, flitting?
Watch her build a nest up high.
Some feathered thing disappears
Into cirrus like a bean stalk
I’m not afraid to climb.


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