All the while he talks to

the boy, their son, on the phone,

she is interrupting, telling him something

to say, not to say, indicating

that she needs to talk to the boy

herself. Rather than dampening

her enthusiasm or trying

to listen to both at once, finally

he hands her the phone. And rather

than resentment, what he feels

inside himself is the primordial

upwelling of tenderness.

you woman tree woman one
swaying to unheard of winds uninvented air streams
you woman sky with palms broad enough to hold eqypt
who taught me to walk
slow and deliberate
like i had somewhere to go
who taught me stories
that needed telling
to love men and women who needed 
who taught me to fetch life
out of the depths of rivers
taught me the words
that the tree branches sang to wake
the sun and bring morning home
who taught me to love loving
with my eyes wide open
who taught me to dance and smile
in rhythm
to clap with an open heart