Jim and I sprawl on the floor
with stuffed animals,
freeing their voices, our minds ajar.
Leo hides in grasses golden
as his mane.  "I see you," says Scarlet,
on sunny currents of gliding air.
Raisin peers through leafy walls,
taps his shoulder, "You're it!"
and dives away camouflaged.
I don't want to go down the stairs.
                      I'm not going.
                I'm not going.
        I'm not going.
   I'm staying here being Leo
with Jim next to me.

We line up.
"I did it," Jim lies.
Into the dungeon my brother decends,
taking what was meant for me,
though I did something as small
as leaving Raisin on the floor.
I cuddle my Leo, 
must go down, 
       down,
               down.
                 Scarlet flies
                     above my head
                           until the last step.
                                             

                 Felt

Tender I move with bare feet,
always bare, across stones
sharp as tiny broken shells,
on a dusty worn pine floor,
on boulders, perfectly placed,
begotten as snow flakes,
as blue whales and quaking aspen.
They bleed freely, these feet.
These feet, they cry and laugh,
fall joyfully calloused,
fly demigod-like, no, god-like.
They speak an invitation, 
a lullaby, an invocation.
They speak to you
like an umbrella in the rain,
a shawl around your shoulders,
to a seamstress a present of felt.

we play C
a rock and rose
for you and me

prior to addition
crawling
opening ones eyes

C encompassed the womb
and before
the atom

creator hummed
this first note

this morning
with a cat on my lap
green rain and leaf

beaming in I realize
how lucky we are
to om to C

daughter of two
lover of one
mother of three
sister of infinity

He gives me roses,
transposes my moves.
Around my rows,
I juxtapose his garden.

wombed winter white
 is reborn green, 
green like sunbathing
 sugar snap peas

Your gifts -
tea tree shampoo
and a red rose
are in my hair.