Seven Acts of Love 

Seven Acts of Love 

I
you bore me through hard labor
on the seventh cold day of the year. 
you put the Greek in my blood.

II
you nudged me to question and to criticize
and when I turned them on you, you lived up
better than you could have dreamed.

III
you disguised yourself many times
in lies, in sex, in false prophets
and in false poets whose words sting then die.

IV
you wore a hat and smoked a pipe
and taught me history and poetry.  
you planted word-seeds.  this is a sprout.

V 
you petted puppies in my house
ate my food and grew up
before I could figure how to raise you.

VI
you level my mood; we have built a kingdom 
where monarchs reign, where the tiger lies 
down with the lamb.

VII
you fetched me treasures from the ancients: 
under your pen fog translates into poetry.
Catullus is grateful.

With a different numbering system, this poem appears in my collection Turtle Woman & Other Poems