March 26, 2019

Bettina T. Barrett

IT IS WORTH HAVING

She writes about love
about making love the animal way
to which my body lifts
almost rears on hind legs,
my want so strong
it leaves me weak in the knees:

myself to give someone his own,
breathe the breath that warms,
to lie body-to-body close, have hands
the lips travel my spine, shape shoulders
hold breasts, curve the belly
and round my bones

inside me the cry echoes
the wild scream once let out
while high on a mountain
meadow’s sweet grasses, I want
that soaring again
an untethered flight
into the sun glow

open myself to the arrival
where he/I will see each other
remembering the desire, the rush
toward that practiced fullness
again
and again

from Rattle #14, Winter 2000

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Bettina T. Barrett: “Lately I’ve been hiking the trails here once a week, to feel the earth solid beneath my feet, to let my thoughts soar wherever they will, and to inhale all the green growing alive. Soothes me for a little while.” (web)

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September 17, 2013

Bettina T. Barrett

OF FEATHERS

Cindy is dying and all day
feathers are falling
in front of my eyes             they drift
like leaves             from palm fronds
from trees             past the windshield
of the car when I drive

air lifts them across hedges
sidewalks             and in my patio
they cling to the fence or roll
down the hill of the blue umbrella

from the high hills an owl feather
rests in the palm of my hand
pale gold and so light I can barely
feel it

where is the dividing line
between the here and the there? the moment
weightless between one step and the next
I listen as she pulls at each breath             visible
even as the invisible opens

my touch on her forehead just a whisper
of the air I can feel on my skin

from Rattle #20, Winter 2003

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