All morning my daughter pleading, outside
outside. By noon I kneel to button her
coat, tie the scarf to keep her hood in place.
This is her first snow so she strains against
the ritual, spooked silent then whining,
restless under each buffeting layer,
uncertain how to settle into this
leashing. I manage at last to tunnel
her hands into mittens and she barks and
won’t stop barking, her hands suddenly paws.
She’s reduced to another state, barking
all day in these restraints. For days after
she howls into her hands, the only way
she knows now to tell me how she wants out.

a call
two arms
akimbo Arms and
the gentlemen at arms
length armed to
the teeth arm candy armed
struggle with open arms
inspection give my
right arm strong-arm
bear arms babe
in arms take up
arms shot In the Arms
of an Angel up
in arms up arms
up arms up arm-in-
arm twisting
my arm A Farewell
to brothers
in arms These Arms
of one-
armed bandit with one
arm tied
behind my back the long arm of the law
costs an arm and a leg

^{San Antonio, TX, December 1970}

It’s nearing the end
of the year and the woman who will be
my mother is pushing
stickpins through the eyes
of sequins and into styrofoam globes
until each coated orb ornaments
the tinseled tree. Her body
is full of the curled question
mark that will soon be
my body. The woman who will be
my grandmother is biding time
at the five and dime stockpiling
supplies to fill my mother’s idle
hands. All along she’s carried
me low—
                    how I’ve known
from early on to position myself
for descent. When I enter
this world, I’ll enter as Hecuba
nearing her end: purpled
and yelping griefbeast,
my mother’s spangled
handiwork.