As/Is







2.11.2004


Letter to Carmel Bird

you remembered
the baby
tear-poached and pink,
dirty hands twisted, she's alone
out there.
oh well.

she'll be unmothered
yet, with
no wolves, just bluebells
reaching for her fat baby feet.
the night is cold and they'll
need her
to stay warm.

for a lost baby - you needn't grow
your hair
to cover your cruel and torn dress.
the night is cold.
watch as eucalypts kneel
to keep you warm.

your crib is hard and lonely.
wipe your eyes, learn to go
deeper.