CONGREGATION

Now that you’re dead all of you
Crowds into the kitchen, filling
Every chair, leaning against the wall.
One of you is washing dishes
Another fiddles with the radio
Until it finds a program off the air
Since 1973. Every bit of homework
You ever did is due in the morning
But you're working on it. Essie,
Who died at 80 but is ten here,
Is explaining that babies are born
Through the navel. A very old you
Holds you at three on her lap
You're chatting about the mother
None of you has ever met.

FULL BLOWN

Wisdom, the Greeks said, was never a child,

Let alone a baby, but was born full grown

And armed. Forgive me, Athena; I like you,

As far as a man can like a goddess,

Admiring your cool grey eyes, your appreciation

Of rogues and quick lying tongues, but this

Was not the wisest choice you ever made.

Things were always clear to you; the world never

Slowly consented to bring itself into focus.

You cannot recall being helpless and loved.

No mother brushed your scant hair

Nor watched you fall asleep, nor sang to you;

Zeus never threw you high and caught you

So that you loudly squawked and crowed.

Uncles and aunts you had but none

Who made reed hats for you, or funny faces.

No one held you back when you wanted

To give an apple to the man-eating horse.

Wisdom knows, but does it learn, does it wonder

Does it sleep at night and remember being held?

PATRONAGE

Patron of the poor! Also of poets,
Poultry farmers, printing presses,
Fugitives, babies, scholars,
Mariners, midwives and milkmaids!
All these and more is Brigid.
Somewhere, a poor scholarly poet,
All agrime with printer's ink,
With a baby under one arm
And a chicken under the other
Looks to flee the midwives' wrath
By taking to the sea. Alas for him!
Brigid also smiles on nuns
And blacksmiths. Even now,
A burly bride of Christ speaks a name
To the red metal of a new-forged sword.

NINJA CHILDREN

Before we began our campaign

Few were aware of the problems

Of having a ninja baby. Born stealthy

Some of them are three months old

Before their parents catch more

Than the most flighting glimpse of them.

There is something unnerving – believe me--

About a silent baby, dressed in black

Clinging next to the window at  3 A.M.

Squinting thoughtfully at the moon

As if only it understands her.

No matter the parents  your ninja child

Is, of course, Japanese. Communicating

Can be extremely difficult.

Nor can one use sitters who are not masters

Of a wide variety of martial arts