Sister

Today I saw a woman plowing a furrow. Her hips are

broad, like mine, for love, and she goes about her work

bent over the earth.

I caressed her waist; I brought her home with me. She

will drink rich milk from my own glass and bask in the

shade of my arbors growing pregnant with the pregnancy

of love. And if my own breasts be not generous, my son

will put his lips to hers, that are rich.