Cate Root

Absolute

My dad says to me once—(you know) you and I were the ones
Really in love with her—his wife, my mom
Rich in absolutes, my affections diverse and strange
Clinging to my heart’s oyster shell
New growth welcome, I swear, but I don’t understand the seasons
Am I supposed to die soon? How do you know without organs?
You can’t label me neatly, my romance lowly and misunderstood
Like a gallbladder, a spleen
Can you fall in love with your mother? I’m unable to picture
The great unknown of neglect and disappointment
For my birthday, age 39, I received three custom sets of earrings—the star, my cat of
Fifteen years, she outlives so many meaningful loves
With or without names, once, I remember, I used to love my grandmother madly
Shrieking on a trampoline, look at me, look at me
A metaphor, I see now: even in flight, we seek an anchor

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Cate Root is a poet in New Orleans. You can find more of her work at cateroot.online.

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