concentric circles
my universe is not your universe
i am a circle expanding and too
i am a circle shrinking upon itself
parchments of cloth mama's crochet
patches of moments child's chilling
chimera chimes of Chippewa
a blue butterfly kept on moth
balls, purple feathers, a white trunk
a T-square, a picture of Nefertiti
georgia o'keefe, a poetry of things
an art, a form, a shape of pain, a mold
of molds, we relate to this pain that
clings to our feet like anklets. We are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem