Rod Riesco

Homage to Miro (2)

I am a woman
Don't call me a bird.
The moon is my sister
We'd kill for a word.

This bird is a bomber,
Its moon is a plum.
The stars fall like teeth
On the floor when I come.

My stripes are defiant,
My breasts and my beak
Are proud, dark and scratchy;
I hear your thoughts creak.

Your map lies below me.
My wings are the red
Bandanna of morning
That circles your head.

My eyes are twin beads
Of searching black light.
Flames rise from your nest
In the trench of the night.

Rod Riesco, born 1949, works as a freelance translator. Based in Horwich, near Bolton, Lancashire, England. Secretary of Bank Street Writers group and editor of Current Accounts magazine. Involved in creative writing since 1993. Poems published in various magazines, anthologies, etc. Favourite writers include W.C. Williams, Elizabeth Bishop, Lorine Niedecker. Web page at: