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.