FIELDS OF CAPRICORN words and photography by pd lyons

 

FIELDS OF CAPRICORN

 

 with ash figures, smudge me.

 with woman oil, mark me.

 from the little lady of the green, offer  water

she who taught me how to drink.

 tonight, with common ancestry

across our knees, we sit.

 with a blade made by my own teeth, cut.

 blood speaks. all deaths are nourishing.

from the little man of the bone tattoo

offer  warm flesh,

he who teaches how to eat –

this is the man time.