Wednesday, January 6, 2010

poem


I celebrate myself and sing myself. -Walt Whitman

I celebrate myself and sing myself
awake at dawn’s delight
every freckle and burn
a roadmap
pointing up and out and over
these scars on my arms
dry desert elbows
neckline like rivers receding
this is my topography
of bumps and breasts and bruises
this is my sky and my stars
my imperfect pasture
my lakes and caves and caverns
exposing frost and flake
upon the print of the moon on my palm
this is my globe
my atlas
my almanac
through flood and drought
I celebrate myself and sing myself
to sleep

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