Diane M. Laboda

At This Very Moment

If I were sharp-eyed and breathing in
every wound—present and aware
of light and shadow, hard and soft,
up and down—I could push inside
this moment, bring it life.

If I had teeth strong enough to bite off
the tail of the dragon, fingers rough
enough to start fire, we would eat,
know the taste of the moment,
fill our bellies, fill our memories.

If I could fly above the mountains,
see the other side, slide down into
valleys green, slip along watery
threads, I’d know how life survives
even in the hottest desert.

If I had pigments of every color,
I could create the animals of the hunt,
larger than life and fierce,
and make myself a picture
on the wall for my sons to see.

If I talked the talk and wrote
the lines of man, all children would know
where they came from, how to love this earth,
when to let it go, and when to climb higher
into the branches of the moment.

© 2013 Diane M. Laboda

The Big Windows Review 4 (Spring/Summer 2013)

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