Vanni Taing

Mother

Blood tracing the talus
A quail egg of a bone

Speckled goose  one holds the body  two
grip the heather cattail neck—slit now
Its eyes lower to the swept cement floor
Blood  draining into a pot
Makes a savory broth  Where is the red
How does vermillion run clear
The rushing  now drop-drop-dropping

Mommy, lick it
Make it all better

Lantern Review: A Journal of Asian American Poetry
Issue 1 | June 2010 | p 47