Notice
Notice my mother
look at her fly coat—look at her
maple leaves turn magenta when she walks by
there’s envy in the stars tonight
my mother passed and they fought about who was prettier
she or the moon
who deserved to polish Orion’s Belt
who should swim the black river of her hair
then the shy paper of her hands
traced a path for hummingbirds to saunter
her painted lips held swollen questions
more rageful than returning refugees
more righteous than stars
more beautiful than the revolution we have been preparing
