Her Unbearable Lightness

The circles of the bloody moon, slide Northward towards the Rive Nile, Death and raven drift above, As mother guards her nest with pride. The nightingales are singing near, The nightly winds leave the door ajar, The big bellied old man, unfamiliar, Shows fatigue on his face, so clear. The sheer brilliance of Mother's many vibrant colors, fills my heart with such unwavering joy, As she pulls and folds the table cloth, She sings with the bloody wood, such joy. The silent man, like a mocha brown ape, sprawls at the window sill and gapes, Mother brings in the mango slices, Bananas, oranges and the summer grapes. The silent vertebrate in brown, smiles the frowns then concentrates then withdraws, then the silent bellied man in brown, tears at the fruits with his murderous paws. And still Mother's lovely grin, circumscribe her dazzling white denticle, as this man tears into these mango slices, she looks at him in adulation, such a spectacle!