George Kalamaras

Woman of Dark Grass

Woman who
Nine days
Nine months
Carried a silence for nine years
Like a fading color
Woman who spoke the word, gently,
Down to the chests of birds
Woman who walked with roots
Woman from whose womb the green fruit drops
Woman of dark water
Of grass, forgotten
Of a table's solitary strand of hair
Who carried a silence for nine years
Nine months
Nine days
Like a fading color
Like a pain almost loved
Almost almond
Down through chests of birds
Woman who spoke the word
And walked with roots
Woman of dark water
From whose womb the green fruit drops,
Forgotten, like grass,
Like a spot of moon
Like a table's final strand of hair
Nine days
Nine months
Whose silence almost loved
Almost carried nine years
Down into the chests of birds
Into the walking whose womb dropped
Woman into a waking color
A dark water
A word, green
And restless
Like a table's grass
Like a womb's tone and final fruit
Like a spoken chest
And a word whose bird walks the roots
Woman whose silence wakes nine years
Nine months
Nine strands of hair
Whose word, restless,
Walks the birds back to fruit
To almond
To nine days of love
Almost pain
Almost root
Almost walk of fading hair
Woman whose dark greens the fruit
Whose fade
Walks the birds
Almost loves
Almost pains
For nine months
Nine loves
Nine drops of dark
Woman whose root waters the womb
Whose drop birds the chest
Whose table tones the hair
Whose calm months the year

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