Articles/Essays – Volume 17, No. 1

Charm for a Sick Child

we will dream now of a cave 
with a figure at the entrance, 
see the magic seeds she holds 

to twinkle new stars into your 
angry blood, two fingers cross 
your wrist, then above your head 

my hand traces the entrance; 
dream beginning and end 
as you swelter in bed. 

remember the godmother 
little one 
pockets of glass slippers 
and surprise home runs 
your wishes hover here 
like candle smoke 

the wave not the wand is potent, 
and godmother mothergod mother 
will bring you seawater, sun 

and thunder, a fresh start, 
what in my bones knit you 
within me still weaves magic. 

sleep now. here is the sign 
more ancient than memory, 
here is the turn in the tide.