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Undreamed (Mother’s Voice)
undreamed my mother’s tragedies
what escapes from the soles of feet in a soybean field
undreamed my father
who in the end must’ve built his own tombstone
undreamed my son
buried beside my wingless brother
undreamed the south giving me this tobacco to grow alongside of
though I had to find my own water
a sun to darken my round face
I can’t hate a place
my grandmother is buried
beside my other dead in rows
I want the blue dreams of birds
but not their looking eyes
I want my head to bow when I sleep
as if in a prayer
only the winged knew