MARE IMBRIUM: a girl in the birthing room

by Karen An-Hwei Lee

For all mujeres, I hold a cluster of yellow-eyed daisies

      lest one day my soul, too, contort in pain.

Rain is colostrum rich.  A new moon sips thin

      clean milk from a young mother, antibodies

in a dialogue of water & soul brushed with salt paste

      as I gather the rueful birthing, what is

labor effacing the moon’s delicate edge, uterine

      thin so the child’s head, enormous as a buried world

passes light paper chrysanthemums near a sacral cassia

      thicketed outside windows, yes, slate azure

sea of rains, mare imbrium – implausible terra

      new world wailing the lunar blue of life.