Fruition
BY NAOMI HAMILTON
I walk with my sister
beneath pines standing
like veterans in salute,
as if to congratulate her
on the bundle she carries
the size of a grapefruit.
Now the sheen of birch
bark after a mizzle of rain
demands to be seen;
the knotted faces of trolls
begin to ache from
trunks. In five months
even the musk of moist
honeysuckle and a fluster
of pigeons in the canopy
will take on new meaning,
and the body of this child
shall be a living psalm.
