~RONDA BROATCH~

WOMAN FEEDS ON THE FRAGMENTS OF A DAY WITHOUT RAIN

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When the nuthatch lights
       in limbs of the fig,
                she fills

clam shells with water
        to slake its thirst,
                watches it sip

from drops on leaves
        meant to bless the young
                tree, hoping

it will hold
        its small figs forming.
                She sees them

ripening, knows the fleshy
        redness of each uterine fruit.
                Pregnant

evening deepens, nuthatch
        sleeps, moon swells
                in a cirrus sea.

Coyote roams her road, raccoon
        follows her hunger,
                chickens and cats

shed their lives
        to feed the ravenous
                rotation that lures them,

        tides they cannot survive
                without.
 
 

© by Ronda Broatch