skirt basket

skirt basket

When I was really little, I liked wearing skirts and dresses especially in the summer because I could gather things in my skirt and then hold onto the hem and I'd always have something to carry home all the cool things I found in the woods behind our house. That memory gave me the image for this poem.

“field of summer” by majalin

skirt basket

before periods and commas and hard returns    there were thisses and thats and various whatnots    in baskets made of skirt

and all I could carry in my skirt was nothing less than the world to me: a pebble a stick a stone    some moss a feather a cone    this flower a string a bone

dark the woods the earth the sky    and dark the mud-drenched world outside    nose pressed flat to glass of rain dripping down and down and anyway: wherever does it go again?

up and up the mountain bend upon bend and are-we-there-yet bend-again in the road and YES!      finally!    your water out and out and all about forever lake of joy I can’t even wait to be in you!

And then flesh became word and thought among us.

oh heart of mine   oh heart of then   oh heart of before time:   when did skirts stop being baskets and become pants with too small pockets?

oh twirly whirly basket of skirt is there room for all of me in the world of you?   for I’ve become scattered and lost in too many pockets all bordered and defined

before periods and commas and hard returns    there were thisses and thats and various whatnots    in baskets made of skirt

(c) Heidi E. Fischbach, 2016

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