acceptance

The several appetites of my husband and his mother:
joyfulness and cynical laughter are
musical instruments seducing my children.
Downstairs ice clinks in glasses,
stirring and
daily dissolution.

Gently wrapped up in their rompers romping pinecones and sandglasses,
these forms of my offspring.
Their small soft faces a little death.
Each evening when they go to sleep, I die;
Each morning when they wake, I live again.
God is my precious imaginary resurrection
burden.

Love each other or perish:
what futile delight and useful deception a communion of souls,
clouds of sorrow the tearing wind thunder mist dreaming.
From these little creatures my progeny I am learning,
throw myself seeds as I walk,
gather myself in this work,
kiss and walk backward dizzy from the room
my sweetest sinking moon.