I like-- I like to write poems which
relate some sort of natural object to human life.
As, I suppose, a cabbage patch poem was an example of that.
And this is another one.
It's called "Natural Events."
"One.
You are a river which scrubs a dress on your rocks
until it is threadbare.
You are the dress, drying in the wind's applause.
You are the body inside the dress, desiring another body.
You are two bodies, you are the bed, the advancing blade
of moonlight.
You are the moon, which lives in another world
and seeks itself in the eyes of this one.
Two.
Because the bat has an arm like yours, think of it kindly.
Because the trout has a backbone like a more beautiful you,
use it to comb the tangles out of your daughter's hair.
Because the lilac has stolen your heart
and filled it with chlorophyll, planted next to the house.
Because the pencil translates your dreams,
carry it under your tongue.
Because the spoon is your mother, the knife your father,
bury them deep before the conquerors come.
And three.
Looking west, you say, this is how you want to die.
Give off white light all day and then turn into a rose
without knowledge of tomorrow.
Know only it is time to head for someone's window
and leave no sound of splinters, no fallen petals.
Only your dark center expanding, slowly filling the room."