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Twin Sonnets for Sierra and Ellery, Who Made Me Uncle

 

     1.   Sierra

 

She writhed in the tourniquet

of tears for days like years,

foreclosed from the womb,

her legs folded beneath her

 

unable, unwilling to move on.

Now she is scoot and cackle,

her radius of home widening

like sunrise light. A face

 

rising to meet our sleep, 

and arms reaching, inviting

arms to descend. So much soft

to shield from the dread angles

 

of every made thing. Eyes

so open everything falls in.

 

 

 

      2.    Ellery

 

When she cranes her head

back to see the sunk origins

of my voice, to smile

my eyes, the tule fog

 

lifts from me. She gums

sand handfuls, boardbooks,

uncle—everything passing

for gnawing—and greets

 

each spoken sentence open-

toothless-welcome-what-may.

Ploughs her brows when

thinking, then returns to

 

high-beaming. I’m poured

into the courage of grins.