At first you were nothing
but a hard fist
a closed heart
a cold stone
not even my tongue
could soften
unyielding even
when I pressed you
into the earth
and held you there
with my finger
urging you deeper
before covering
you over in dirt
leaving you
abandoned for weeks
you stayed hidden
I imagined you
cold and alone
under the surface
out of my hold
I was certain
I would grow old
and impatient
waiting for you
I know the rules
of exposure
that a negative
can only develop
if the door to the
darkroom stays closed
but I was too hungry
for the sight of you
and ventured
like an animal
into the garden
scrabbling in wet earth
clawing the ground
nearly breaking
the tiny white
neck of you
those little spider limbs
you’d grown so delicately
out of nowhere
how changed
you had become
since I last saw you
and now you are
unstoppable
claiming your own
life despite me
and I see you
climbing high
and strong
heavy with
the fruit of you
waiting to be
unsheathed
you broad
you fava
vetch
hanging there
displaying
your bounty
as if you are
simply there
for the taking.
_______________
Cheryl Moskowitz is a US born, UK based poet, novelist and creative translator. With her husband, musician Alastair Gavin she runs the All Saints Sessions www.allsaintssessions.uk. She is an editor at Magma Poetry. Her recent pamphlet Maternal Impression is published by Against the Grain Poetry Press (2021)