In Her Ancient Bowl

July 8, 2018by DyAnne Korda

I can’t remember seeing her breathe in this sleepy way.

Now she’s allowing me to see all those resting stones

inside her wide belly. And the Gardener whispers,

How will you fill this silence?

By entering it, I blurt out. He grins as light rays

filter through clouds stretched blue across the horizon.

I remove the chain with totem charms from my neck

for the Lake to bless. Our shadows float

inches above her stones. Gold leaves

flicker around them. A crow calls;

a jay responds. We consider all the prayers

held deep in her ancient bowl. The Gardener

lights a cigarette. He wanders the shore and steps

upon the water. Slight waves brush over

the necklace; I am mesmerized

as the turquoise bear smiles and begins to swim.