I Am

I AM

I am a fat worm plucked from the front lawn by a robin,
then fed to its chirping chicks.
I am the whiskers of the cat
who sits grooming himself on the fence post,
patiently waiting for a fledging
to fall out of its nest.

I am the fine mist of dew
that drapes the earth at dusk
I am the loon's cry rippling across the lake,
and a cricket, readying myself to perform
the night's symphony.

I am the rustle of veils pushed aside,
the uncertainties that crumble in the dark,
and all the inhibitions tossed at the foot of a bed.
I am the perspiration beneath a pendulous breast,
the softness of human touch,
and the moan that gets caught in your throat.

I am the flight of the 10 o'clock plane
that flies over my house every night,
always en route to a different destination.

I am the feeling that lingers
when you wake from a dream,
the uncertainty that tugs at your brain.
I am the coffee cup held tight in the morning,
the cream that swirls its way
to the bottom when stirred,


I am the aftertaste in your mouth.
I mmm...I am

This is  a poem by a woman from Quebec Canada.

Mademoiselle Azphodel.