Five Poems (in Two Days)

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First, the latest Selkie poem:

I Used to Be a Seal

I used to be a seal,
slippery in the sea's
salt flow.

I used to be a seal,
I would peel my oil
slick pelt off my shoulders,
to reveal, and
to revel in
my second skin

I used to be a seal,

free to feel, flow, and
roll below the swells
I used to be
a seal,
used to squeal,
laughter pealing,
but the sight of

him

drew feeling,
(when I met him on the shore)
far too strong
to ignore

I used to be a seal

but no more

*~*~*~*~*

This one was jotted down on an envilope at lunch, 'cause that was the paper I had available:

my god

my god,
the smell of queen anne's
lace after Rain,
my god, the very rain
soaked loam, the ferns,
dripping, my
god, the puddles, sky
reflecting, my god
my god
this lush, damp
earth my sweet
sustainer
my god

*~*~*~*~*

Written, yesterday, on the train, while on my way to Ami_B's house (yes, I said HOUSE).

Purple Flowering Raspberry

She's a little piece of heaven
this high bush
tree growin
wild along the highways, by the
bike paths and the weedy queen
anne's lace.
Her flower's like a wild rose,
leaf like a currant bush,
but her fruit
her fruit
is broad and clotted
red around a hard
hip,
white
like bone

*~*~*~*~*

Also written on the way to Ami_B's:

Skin Memories

There was a woman on the bus
hardly more than a girl, she wore a
long, pink sweater that clung
to her curves,
the sway of her hips,
just so.

On the high bridge of her sternum
just below her collar bone
was a scar.
The size of a box of paperclips
or the library's rubber date
stamp
The size of my two thumbs laid side by each
What caused that scar
to mar her
skin?
What burn,
so sharp-edged,
left its mark? It looked
like someone took a kinfe and
sliced her
skin clean off.
I wonder
what grew back there
in its place?

*~*~*~*~*

While the train stopped at Carleton U.:

Three Women Walking

Three witches
Three muses
Three women
walking
wise and graceful
chadores billowing
in the breeze

*~*~*~*~*