the matter of facts

been a long time since i've written a poem

been a long time since i've sunk into words

but i've been using my hands

putting my body into the matter of facts

deconstructing stairs and building steps

with treads and stringers, risers, stain,

forcing grout into grooves of tile

squarely laid by a leo

progressed into virgo,

stripping carpet and laying wood

plank by plank and numerous splinters,

plastering walls with grotto texture

tinted in sage and basil

smeared with a putty knife four inches wide,

layer upon layer upon layer

harvesting tomatoes, jalapenos, beets, squash, potatoes, 

basil, parsley, spearmint         daily

collecting eggs and expressing

milk from the teat of a goat

while the kid sips lazily from the other side

This

while the ducks hide

their nest in quiet partnership

where i'm hands off

waiting

for that morning of ducks

lined behind their mother skimming across water

Yes

and waking with calloused hands

with stiff and sore hands

with strong hands

that cradle kittens and arrange bouquets

with neighbor children who romp the garden exclaiming

"that's the first real sunflower i've ever seen" and

"can i come play here everyday" and

"i want to hold the chickens" and

"what is the name of this flower" and

"what is the name of this flower" and

"what is the name of this flower" and

"you mean bite the tomato like it's an apple?" and

"mmmm, this smells good" and

"mmmm, this tastes good" and

"look at my flower bouquet" and

"look at my flower bouquet" and

"look at my flower bouquet"

my eyes have crinkled in the sunshine of corners

my smile happens in the laugh of dreams

my hair is falling open at the seams

where silver seeps in spiral threads

descending from the webs of spider crones

whose hands have woven matters of the daily facts 

of wood and soil, green and grain

and passed the seeds of stories to my palms

where grit resides beside the living heart

and home is built one moment at a time

--Diana Tigerlily