Corg Henniges
Gator Woman
Gator woman come from the sun.
Gator woman split in two, to wade
the currents and carry her story
through water. One half walks on
to hold heat from stones.
Gator woman left her scales
to measure me, to warn, to gift
a trail to follow. In her eyes
I see me, kneeling in a great swamp.
I plant her black glass scales
in stone trees that sigh
and live again. I seed
her brown freckles
into inked soil that nurses
at my fingertips.The heart shapes
flap from my palm to become
flared lilies atop the water.
Gator woman sees this all.
Gator woman swallows me whole
and carries my story through.
Gator woman come from the sun.
Gator woman split in two, to wade
the currents and carry her story
through water. One half walks on
to hold heat from stones.
Gator woman left her scales
to measure me, to warn, to gift
a trail to follow. In her eyes
I see me, kneeling in a great swamp.
I plant her black glass scales
in stone trees that sigh
and live again. I seed
her brown freckles
into inked soil that nurses
at my fingertips.The heart shapes
flap from my palm to become
flared lilies atop the water.
Gator woman sees this all.
Gator woman swallows me whole
and carries my story through.