Swim in my nude

If I could stop the spin
on those legacy twins
Mothers Nature & Earth,
what would that be worth?

If you break the vase --
rhymes not with Lamaze --
will you save face
under the new laws?

Dare any of us ignore the anthologized odes?
Can tabby snooze blasé beneath the goldfish bowl?

My knowledge of history derives
from reading your obituary lives
and tracing dated photographs.
No immediate family survives.

I knew a woman once whose smile
flashed the pearly teeth of a child.
Somehow a heart, eager for peace
and dulled by its beating,
sought only surcease,
no matter how fleeting.

Now I brew my tea strong
to drown the final song,
tenacious as the hangover
at the hour of dawn.

I will swim in my nude,
study the shapes of trees,
rejoice at the red tailed hawk,
wince still at the crow’s squawk.

Too phlegmatic to drool,
I will swim in my nude.