Adoption Stories
By Robin Arbiter
One mother is still convinced,
And one is still assured,
And I must deal with history,
The dawn of which was painful,
The end of which approaches.
In the face of stories
More certain than stone,
I cannot trust my heart,
Which after fifty years is still flying,
No land in sight.
I believe in all kinds of mothers,
But the one I am turning to
Is the one whose arms are always open;
Take me back,
And forgive the poverty of my life.
You gave me everything,
But I only held on to sorrow.
Sometimes I Forget the Moon
By Robin Arbiter
A fat moon is hiding her face
behind a mackerel fan. The night
and a strong summer breeze are
making shameless love, and humid
drops of their sighs are disturbing
the sleep of lonely people.
A fat moon is baring her thighs
to a quiet city at midnight. I am
tempted to bite her in an excess
of love. She has outdone the stars
in a flagrant display of her breasts. Drivers
are having a hard time keeping their eyes on the road.
A fat moon generously grants
what she cannot hold- light-
while I am writing songs
in a language I frequently forget.
Someone has put out one of her eyes;
someone has parked a car on her skirt.
A fat moon is telling a story,
But no one in my town is listening because
her voice is high and her ankles thick.
Even I will forget her a hundred times
before I remember I love her.
Robin Arbiter is a writer, artist, and community activist living in Urbana, Illinois.