(In Algonquin, also known as Corn Planting Moon, Milk Moon.)
Flower Moon grows full
as the foal in the mare's belly.
Lilacs bloom with the Spring rains
as do the small white bells
of Convallaria majalis
their fragrance filling the air.
The Algonquin plant corn
(into every hole: a seed, a fish)
and soon green stalks strive for the sun.
Flower Moon is full of herself
rapturous and lush.
Now is the fertile time.
Moonesquanimock kesos
when women weed corn
bear children of Milk Moon
giving sustenance to new life
nourish old Mother Earth.
In the field a wobbly-kneed calf
suckles at the teat
while across the meadow
the oriole sings his sweet melody
kit foxes tumble outside the den
peony and rose buds swell
round and pink and red
waiting to rupture.
Monica Enders lives in Sag Harbor. This poem is part of a series about full moons and the Algonquin tribe.