I am to swing, opening gates
a child bearing summer to its end
with the kindness of leaves.
I am to be diamonds, pick-me-ups
queer riddles you do not know.
Not an English evergreen
but empress of milk
the blood I leave for the ages.
I am to proliferate.
I am roseate and frequent.
I am a sextant. I am full of sky.
I once walked across the playground.
My confusion was greater than the hills.
There was too much bread
and circumstances were not
The leaves are my sisters.