Mar 13, 2015

FRIDAY POETRY






 

Hammocks and Iowa Corn 



THE HAMMOCK 

The belly 
of the thick carnival cloth 
on an airless 
humid day, 
swinging side to side 
until there is 
stillness

is the only place I know 
that resembles 
the womb 
I came from 

Mothers
should never die
with children 
young, 
especially 


IOWA CORN 

The Iowa corn
she knew so well 
is forever tall. 

Our grief harvested
with every season. 

Thank God 
for fertile 
ground. 








I wrote this poem a while back, during the MFA program, 2005, 2006. Hammocks have always been a significant part of my life, especially childhood in Panama. I can think of two of three poems I've written where hammocks show up. 

Whenever I find a hammock, I am there. I've actually stayed at particular hotels, because they have hammocks. One is Key West I remember well. 

A few weeks ago hammocks came up in conversation, and I shared how much I love them and that they remind me of being in my Mother's womb.  And this poem came to mind.  I've also been telling Maddie and Morgan that the camping hammock is going to make it's spring debut on the back patio soon. 

For everyone the place is different, for some a couch, for some a swing under a old familiar tree, for some a bench in a favorite park or the worn saddle on a horse, your cousin's garden, the banks of a shy river, a nearby mountain top ……  wherever the place is for you, GO THERE !  





Camping Hammock