Freckles

-for mf

No, it wasn’t your strength that drew me to you

Mary Faery, though your will blazed a fierce blue

with secrets dark as your Scorpio purse of balm

& obsidian. Hailing from a long lineage of Dakinis

Guanyin, Green Tara, Our Lady of Guadalupe

Privy to angelic transmissions beyond my ken

you embodied for me deep sweetness. Giggling

wings, almost whispers, dancing on your lips

A child’s smile. Indigenous delight learned at

Nagponi where you waged bureaucratic aikido

peace-corpsed in the Philippines & through

high drama, death threats, Marcos & Aquino

found your band of Ati title to the village plots

they called home. More a Kennedy than a Fried-

berg. And no, it was not for your warmth, tale

be told, for you were direct as a dart shot in

the quick of the hunt. You spoke the icy truth

if need be, regardless of consequence & calmly

apprehended even languages you’d not known

under stress, in a mob, knife at your throat. And

though my Japanese grandmother didn’t like

the bellow in your Irish brogue, I admired you

for that brazen gracelessness, even when it

cost me in argument – a price most dear for

those like Jimbo and I who prize disputationem

That male process crucial for us coming to under-

stand, which you would despise, preferring

the blink of gestalt. Of silence over sophistry

But, yes, I did fall in love with your kindness

& wild gypsy hair & we made haste 

in our kindnesses. Called them children

Danced in fairy mushroom rings. Drummed

& ommed together even unto your last breath

A candle. Hot wax. Freckles of lavender & myrrh