His Muse
He undresses her jewel-hard mind
every morning with his brain.
Her Muse
She looks for an unmarked room
down a long corridor
and finds him, warm with sleep,
his soft shirt beside the bed.
Their Muse
The female seahorse loves the male
who carries the pearls of her eggs
inside his pouch
where they hatch as miniatures
he fosters and ejects
by doing a forward, a backward bend.
He’s relieved, she stunned.
Soundless, the little fleet sails forth.
Click here to read Jennifer Barber on the origin of the poem.
Photo: “Spring has sprung!” by Robert Orr; licensed under CC BY 2.0
Latest posts by Jennifer Barber (see all)
- Motion Harmony #3 - November 30, 2014