raspberries

He bends over backwards for a baby bird

Cries when a kitten is hit crossing the road

Curses fly from his lips replacing the desire to swoop in and save the small furry black body in between the dotted lines

He opens the passenger car door like she’s royalty in crocs

Not every time

In moments when she doesn’t even realize it matters

Wraps the Baby nephew with arms that flex to a Brook trout on the line, arms that stretch along the length of her torso

Not without

Moments of dissonance that inevitably itch 

Far from infatuated 20s

Not without 

Red Temper screaming on the banana colored bike pulled off to the side next to the shrubs

Indignant, she was

How dare even the fly land and call it a dove

Not without 

Swearing to god inadequacies 

Hanging up as if to claim certainty 

Conflict over the phone

With 

Breaks for breath 

Repairs wounds old and new 

Grows sunflowers in abandoned soil 

Becomes banter in the car 

With 

A future seen through the cracked windshield

To the children we don’t have that will inevitably be annoying,  

“Do you know where you came from?” he points to his pants and my belly 

Remember these lines but the feeling is greater 

Belly expanding to hold all the potential between 

Stretches mouth, an open heart surgery

With 

Laughter that wrinkles time 

To the body that becomes of us 

I’m afraid to articulate such transformational beauty

Perfect isn’t what she’d call it  

But why else would the Mother

Keep reminding the Daughter there is none

Humility, however

Is a balm to a sore mind  

Predictable as the farm share pick-up 

With a weekly sweet cherry surprise 

Not knowing this was the ingredient needed for joyful commitment  

When I wrote about a man he became a poem instead of a man

I don’t want to do that to you

Think my words have you figured out 

Two days after he asked are you still coming to pick the raspberries