musée mia burrus

Six Rubies for Lyn on her birthday

 
 Jo (so young) went west to wild
 rose country to Heart
 River country, a ruby
 red rose between her teeth
 the thorns keeping her silent
  
 secret, unheralded, even unseen,
 baby girl Lewis became,
 and became
 imaginary, perfect
 as the Hope Ruby
  
 Jo (so wild) sits in the silver
 square of the same moon
 all her girls were born
 under, night feeding, wondering
 whose wee ruby mouth is this?
  
 then in some government office
 red tape falls away
 from an old secret,
 and the world becomes small
 as a ruby’s inclusion
  
 every sunrise now
 starts as ruby,
 blazes noonward
 with the cardinal,
 with our sister hearts
  
 we are constellated
 like stars, like dew
 on a silky web, like Indra’s
 blood red rubies at the knots
 of the net
 that entwines us