GMOs and Babies

October 25, 2008 § Leave a comment

we saw a bird rise up through branches,
sing in shadows;
leaves and all the colors dusted
by the hour.

Inside, a farmer was defending science.
You tottered on my shoulders, towering
above us,
seeing only what you could,

You gaze with such intent and purpose
at the sink where I have bathed you;
I am dwarfed by the closeness of your touch.

You grip me with such humble confidence,
delighted, honored to catch sight of me.

Looking up, you tower,
at peace with neediness.

The farmer’s tired
of us all trying to tell him
how to run his farm.
He wants a future too,

as good a one as possible,
in the circumstances.
He loves his farm;
he loves his children.

The twighlight shadows deepen,
make the river loud,
the meeting hall a jewel box,
defenseless, fragile.

Teach me about that.
I want to feel the weight
of love, tractors, angels and meteors
on my chest;
see the world through your eyes,
through the farmer’s eyes.

I want to play God;
banish the slugs from my garden,
feed only perfect food to my baby,
know the number of hairs
on a scientist’s head.

(Published in City Life Las Vegas April, 2000)


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