Why I See

Rae Weaver

There is the reason, fragile as memory-
not a thread, but a mark. Plum-succulent
and fading to yellow shadow like the fruits

of childhood. My mother spied those each time
my shins pinkened in summer sun. Some blackened
as others progressed to clouds of unripe green.

Impermanent, they paled as I grew. She missed
the dark violence, invisible and shouldered with first love.
I shared when he bore his own crescents:

not scrapes of innocence, but a glut
of blood surfaced by knuckles and hangers.
Still I wonder, what penumbra obscured that sight?

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Rae Weaver is an artist and writer currently living in southeastern Virginia. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in several online and print publications including Lotus Blooms Journal, SaucyVox Review, Erosha, Literati Review, Carnelian and ERWA. She was the featured poet in the August 2003 issue of SaucyVox(dot)com.