Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2021  Vol. 20  No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Rocking Chair

Feet cold on wood floorfamiliar
back and forthlike worry they say.

Mehelplessin trying to know
the contours of this small personeyes

so blackancient eyes my dragon-
fierce colleague saidsoftening.

My girlpart of mean instant ago
it seems.In my arms

her skin against my skinno longer
pushing from insidebut stretching me

in a different way. A voice of her own
and a hunger of her ownthat I try

to satelong hoursrockingrocking.
Juice and muffins tableside for predawn

sustenancemy soles bare against the chill
satin of hardwoodpunctuation

of raised board seamsthe bowed
yield of rocker railswood on wood.

My night eyesmy baby’slooking
at the worldhand on my breast.  

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