fr. Greek amnion, originally “vase in which a sacrifice was caught,”
from ame “bucket” or amnos “lamb”
Sack of potatoes. Sack of faint sound.
I imagine myself in your place,
The first flood is always ripening,
all of history made of mother.
Inside the pocket
of my pants my fingers feel
for something. A forgotten coin,
a past life. A crack of white
spills into thread. Soil sweats
in a crumpled hand. I have been held.
I hold. I will be held,
again. The first waters whisper
a prayer that begins with cistern, ends
with tomb. Besides the well the weeds
rise tall, peer into the basin
with their thin necks, witnessing.
We all began in a bag of tricks,
a bucket of sap, a vase of lamb’s blood—
small offerings. A buttercup grows
amber in the dusk, budding & bleating.
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