mother tongue

a poem on remembering what's inborn

MOTHER TONGUE 

From under your skirt I 
glimpse the world - your leafy 
arms reaching, keeping it 
all, just out of reach - I’m 
quiet, calm enough to 
hear your tongue without names, 
to feel what I don’t know,
to try and understand.

I remember speaking
without words, when the feel 
of the stick in my small 
hand told me that if I 
held it just right…