Change

I watch clouds shift.
Bright brown hills turn black
edged with fog.

I smell the sour weed wind

touch your body shapes with my hands

or make word designs
mirrors
small sculptures
a dancer in mid air.

seeking balance

I hold a wooden spoon,
an egg,
in the kitchen
children fight
or play.

I am a lion mother

watching

the rhythms

change.

Flapping and struggling
I emerge
new,
leaves in my hair,

my body spread among

the sky the sea.