WHEN I SEE A FLORA

For Alma Karmina
how can I not
think flowers.
Tho I know no
Spanish, I connect
it with flowers
crimson petals
opening often at night
for the dream child,
her licorice hair,
a river of night,
a rose and lily glow.
She is waiting
like a poem wild
to hold the ones waiting
for her to take them
where without
her smile of sun
and roses they could
only dream
night would go

AWAITING ALMA

as snow melts
into the river,
the new buds,
light beginning
to stay, fill
rooms the baby
will bring her
own sun to.
obsidian eyes
glistening, her
hair a licorice
river the ones
waiting long to
be the banks
she will fill
as they hold her

AWAITING ALMA

as snow melts
into the river,
the new buds,
light beginning
to stay, fill
rooms the baby
will bring her
own sun to.
obsidian eyes
glistening, her
hair a licorice
river the ones
waiting long to
be the banks
to hold her
she'll fill

WHEN I THINK OF MY NOTEPAPER OF GUATEMALAN TEXTILES

For Alma Karmina
with their images of sun
and moon, jaguars and
pumas, I think how some
believe children are born
trailing secrets of the
past, immortality, imagine
your dreams swirling
with images, animals no
longer in Guatemalan
jungles, flowers no one
still knows the name
of. A wind of roses
and lilies from lost
cities over your cradle,
scent your ebony hair
and musk as your
sweetness will the
sheets waiting for you

AWAITING ALMA

somewhere past jungles
and volcanos, Almost
Karmina dreaming
the shape of the
Quetzal in a
wind or corn and
marimbas. She waits,
a jewel to be claimed
as ice melts in the
city where a
room ha been
aching for her,
April turning
thick with blossoms
she will learn the
name of in
English and Spanish

THE ONES LONGING FOR HER

Awaiting Alma Karmina
under her hair
she glows like
under sea pearls
someone would dive for
she glows like hardened
lava in rose sun.
Alma Karmina,
wine lips, her name
intoxicating as
vodka. She is
turning toward them
under her hair her
arms are reaching,
her eyes are
dark stars, each
finger a jewel they
will sprint to
hold, wrap their
arms around,
keep as long as the can

BEHIND THEIR EYES

awaiting Alma Karmina
she is the morning,
the evening. She is
calla lilies and roses
in their dreams she
is the gold someone
has told them they
can find in a stream
they're headed to.
Alma Karmina, she
is singing a soulful
song, a sun song, her
blue black hair the
river they are heading
up stream to where
it all begins

THEY ARE PACKING THE PHOTOGRAPHS OF HER UNDER THEIR HAIR

awaiting Alma
They are packing diapers
Alma Karmina, a mantra,
her eyes burning
like lava
they are aching
for something to start
she is a magnet
pulling them over
water and stone,
over jaguars and pumas.Past Mayan ruins she
glows like some
thing under water
even if they couldn't
swim they would
dive for on
their way to
where nothing
they have known
can begin

THEY ARE PACKING THE PHOTOGRAPHS OF HER UNDER THEIR HAIR

awaiting Alma
They are packing diapers
Alma Karmina, a mantra,
her eyes burning
like lava
they are aching
for something to start
she is a magnet
pulling them over
water and stone,
over jaguars and pumas.Past Mayan ruins she
glows like some
thing under water
even if they couldn't
swim they would
dive for

THEY ARE ON THEIR WAY

awaiting Alma
they are flying toward
Alma, have photographs
packed under their
skin. They're skimming
pyramids and volcanoes,
have her eyes behind
their eyes, her name a
song, a soul that will
fill the rooms they've
made for her. Alma
Karmina, their arms,
her cradle. Her
arms waiting past
rain forests, lilies her
fingers a bracelet the
clasp is not broken on

AWAITING ALMA

Somewhere beyond the
temples, beyond
monkeys and toucans,
Coatimundis. Under
cloth woven of blues
and purples threaded
with animals and
leaves, the black
haired baby waiting like
something ripening.
The moon hands over
her cradle. A wind of
banana leaves and
coffee blends with
lilies and roses as
she will with the
ones waiting for her

To: smorsepluggy@yahoo.com

Dear Stephen

Laura Stamps suggested (after we found we were both writing poems for
new babies the same week) that i send you some poems I wrote for a friend
who is adopting a baby from Guatemala-- in fact she is down there this week.
i thought i would send you the whole file-- I just typed it-- some variant
versions etc-- I don't usually send to online magazines-- seems harder
to keep track of etc-- but here are some
hope you like them-- it was actually a request from her mother in law
that her friends write a poem for the new baby called AWAITING ALMA
best

Lyn