Listen to her heart,
loud as a hummingbird engine
or the rattle of a snake on your threshold.
Bring her frequent bouquets of all petals,
shapes and colors. Write her love
notes in hopscotch chalk on the sidewalk.
Collect everyday treasures:
shells, feathers and skipping
stones for her, so she will look out
further into the sparkle and glaredash
of fins, whiskers, breathsplash, whole pinnipeds
she never thought she’d see. Love
her beech tree that lays out
a gorgeous blanket of dappleshade for picnics
you eat with chopsticks, so it lasts longer and that’s the way
she likes it. As you celebrate her birthday
suit, her mesmerizing texture,
soothe her with sun-drenched stones.
Sing her songs
you remember your mother sang, drifting
in moonlight, stars landing on temples
and scars. At dawn, make blueberry pancakes
together savoring her creation,
every luscious, sticky, syrupsweet bite.
As Saturday slips past noon,
and there’s still more love to be made, tender
her, breathing in her rhythm, and rhyme with her every
swoon, reflecting upside down
on the indecipherable plush of birdsong
strung along the tanglevines stretching out beyond you.
About the Poet:
Kate Wallace Rogers has been writing and performing poetry since second grade. With some friends in Dennis, Mass., she co-founded the Dragonfly poetry and music series. She has had work published in The Beaver and Red Weather. She self-published a slim volume of poetry silk-screened on Japanese folding paper. More recently, she has been a frequent participant and feature at the Mews coffeehouse and AMP gallery in Provincetown. Kate’s poetry weaves together her love of language, nature, and women. She is originally from New York City, but currently lives in Provincetown in Stanley Kunitz’s house. She loves swimming in the ocean year round.