|The gibbous moon sits swollen among
the god amounts, passing an elsewhere
of those who know our daughters.
Experience & peril are both experimental,
from the root per, to risk.
i call on figures whose atoms
might protect us while deer feed
on ferns with elderly brown spores.
Our daughters were born when our
lives were in chaos. After that,
we were able to love. Now
they live past our reach but
we’re sleepless when they have trouble.
They spend days sorting toxic minutes
from calmer layers, & their honesty
is rare in the working world.
One doe scratches an itch on
her back, jaw moving counter clockwise,
her smart nose reaching far into
the dawn. Her fawn spots merged
with sunlight long ago & will
circle the tree forever. The perceiving
mind is restless but can surround
the infinite stress of human love.
—for HA & MN
Artwork by Allen Crawford