Presentation

Rather special, this one.

fourwindowspress

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

The young father
bound
his newborn daughter
across his chest
and then slipped on his skis.

This was a cold February
in the land of lakes and trees
with dancing green lights.

Here he connected,
just as his ancestors
before him connected,
to the starry night,

just as his daughter
will someday bind
her infant
across her heart,
presenting a new life
under the milky-green
foam of stars,

under the great tail
of the Milky Way Galaxy
above her shoulders.

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About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on February 23, 2018, in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. One of my favorites of Ethel’s…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is–thanks for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

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