I am the prodigal son’s mother
I kept the baby swaddled too tightly until he was gone
in the world of temptations
to straighten his knees
I gave the wind my flesh to bite it forty years
in the desert with the rough sack dress over the empty belly
I washed the feet of sacred statues with oil from olive tree nipples
I gave to the rain the color of tears still yelling after my baby
from the mouth of a cavern open in the storm
I learned the barren law
of the damned souls’ forest
like a sunflower I raised myself at sunrise
going round until the night left me bent to the earth
with my heart black and heavy with my son
who didn’t return
because of my great love
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