after Gaspara Stampa and Alfonsina Storni
get up, sister, when dawn
calls to daybreak
reborn;
mother me dawn-like,
entangled in daisy;
mountain my mouth
with mother-of-pearl;
touch the wet earth;
have me lightly,
and not lonely, in grape leaves;
in that extreme hour
(when God shall forgive you),
drink from stones of frost
and foam me
a trembling corolla;
now I must lie reclined
and speak with the birds;
sister my sinews,
bring me wineglasses of miracles;
your haughty flesh
like water,
your proud skeleton
calling all
the vanished names of the wind
Copyright © 2023 by Michael Leong. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 2, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets.