By Robert Kyle
I never wanted that black blanket to wrap around me
The snarling dog at the door
That sits and watches me with sorrowful eyes
I sit at the window watching wild weather
It moves in a curling motion
That twists and turns
Like a shedding snake
These days I long to be by the sea
To sit with the bone-women who knits the world
With her white hair and bladderwrack
She only knows how to weave life
To keep life from drowning
So, I sit with her
And we sing until tears bring rain
How many more moons will light up the night?
Before I sleep, She smiles at me
She doesn’t say a word
But I know she weaves me into the nets she knits
She warms me around a driftwood fire
She holds me close
She loves me like a grandmother loves a child
And we listen to the blackbirds
Together by the seashore
Knitting the ninth wave
Comments