I. When I was Seven
Beauty is a creased eyelid,
That looks like
One
That looks like the
other
Of my mother’s
Eye
and
Eye.

My other eye is like my father’s,
Small and
stereotyped.

Big eyes are beautiful,
My mother thanks often
For the creases in hers.
I have one eye each
from my mother and father.

I feel truly
their daughter.

II. When I ( Read more... )

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To pick one leaf up,
in all of Fall;
we shall garden
in the Spring
again.
One leaf,
out of all
of
this
Fall;
when the leaves
are scattered dense.

In the Spring
I shall have
one leaf,
faded,
cracked and dead;
with
last Fall’s
happy decay
to plant
and pluck
my one leaf
come fall
again.

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