Digging Up Her Arms

author’s note:

As stated in the poem, I did indeed dig by a stump as a boy...

During one of these excavations, I found a small diamond.  Naturally, that clear stone slipped from my hands.  Though I searched and searched, I could not find it.  But because I could not find it, that diamond has remained a diamond.


DIGGING UP HER ARMS

As a boy when I saw
that naked statute in the book
I wished to be a hero
and return those arms to her--

I dreamt she’d repay me
by stroking my hair
with the hands I’d found.
She’d touch my lips.

How I wanted
her nurturing arms!

What I sought then
I still seek now
but I no longer dig in the dirt
by the stump with a stick.

No--
after digging many
people, places, things
I finally found ways
to mine my own self--

ways to recover what I’d lost.

I no longer look for
one big bonanza strike--
as an archaeologist, I must uncover
the hands, the arms
piece by small piece.

A tedious excavation.
However, I grow stronger
with the labor required

and I wouldn’t want
the child to lose hope
that one day
the wounded woman
will again be whole.

Glorious Tedious Transformation: poetry ebook
© 2021, Michael R. Patton