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