DAUGHTER II

i want to heal my mother’s body 
is this what it feels like to be a man 
who loves me or a mother who loves 
their youngest wishing simple peace from the rest
so the clear love can stay clear wanting to heal 
and protect, choiceless wanting to capture and hold
having in the holding in the healing state hoping
for bloom from the vase while the root 
cries for dirt? assurance contract you will be 
ok, you will not leave i will be able to help you
i care about you i talk to my mother and she sounds 
like she is at the bottom of life’s well
like she has grown accustomed to all discomfort 
everything foul no longer noticing intolerable 
temperature or vibration i want to surround her in 
down brushes one laid over the next so there are 
no gaps in the ring that rocks her sweeping wind
lifting lulling steeped in salves made from sweetest shores
i remind myself she still eats toast on little slavic 
flower plates still eats handfuls of huckleberries
still admires the rosebuds and robins
still picks calendula still ladles green soup still turns 
the christmas tree on still recovers the butterfly pin 
still sends me exploding emojis the easter island head 
the bathtub the ladybug the lightening bolt 
i am sick with luck and dread i want her to rise 
and wash her skin in warmest never hot water 
it’s important that she rises and washes 
and that she savors the day as it savors her 
noticing color after color after color
and herself in the colors