i rowed my little boat,

my little boat

        across the river.


i forgot to ask–

did you make it to the other side?


i did,

and then i drank,

and then i drank the color

of the sky

through my hollow throat,


and it sounded like Mother’s Milk,

like Mother’s Milk,

and it nourished all my bones–

         even the Past and the Present.


(From MOTHER’S MILK by Brijit Reed)