Three Poems

Doppler Effect

The Doppler Effect
From a flock of crying geese
Passing overhead.

Heart Beats

When you touch my leg,
My heart beats so fast, I choke.
I hate you for it.

Holy Mother

Sacred Womb that beareth Fruit
Holy Mother, resolute
In her silence, naked heat
From her Bosom, milk is sweet
All-embracing endless joy
There is naught that can destroy
That which yieldeth without yield
She the Moon, She the Field
She the Giver, She the Gift
She the Everlasting Rift
Pure reception, dark and clear:
One cannot help but revere.

© 2013 Mallory Wayt

The Big Windows Review 4 (Spring/Summer 2013)