A few days ago, I woke up
with a different head. It was not
the one I’d gone to bed
My old head wanted
you, you in general, you singular or plural,
to notice me and approve.
Old head did so many things to gain your attention,
each one pulled as tight and perfect
as the rigging on a tall ship in some draconian navy,
always tacking hard into the shoulder of a strong wind
pennants and gold leaf,
pennants and gold leaf.
Oh look, look, look, I have brought you
a dead mouse
a painting look
I made you this
I wrote a book
here is my heart.
My new head waved its hands at that and laughed. It spoke,
for the first time in my voice,
to my surprise,
was birds it was blossom and the kindness of my mother. It was the cat and kettle, it was the imperfect mitten, knitted and given.
you are as lovely as a flower
do you see? And