Some days I am happy to be no one
The shifting grasses
In the May winds are miraculous enough
As they ripple through the meadow of lupine
The field as iridescent as a Renaissance heaven
& do you see that boy with his arms raised
Like one of Raphael’s angels held within
This hush & this pause & the sky’s lapis expanse?
That boy is my son & I am his only [mother]
Even when I am no one
-David St. John
