June 1, 2017
half-moon
waxing
exactly
where
I need
it to be
between
stars silver
in arborvitae
branches
reflecting
diamonds
stacked seven
across wrist
shadow vow
ring eternal
before tone
soprano catches
heart-strings in
paved paradise
after James finds
himself careening
where no one else
can go, I follow
in quiet corners
alone where wild
roses grow beneath
bare feet peeking
from under silk skirts
wrapped twice around
sacred elm trunk
fingers stretched
above head wreathed
in clover tied beginning
to end to gather prayer
flags, tips bowing
in wind gazing
to sidewalk marked
with hopscotch
and four-square
letters spelling
BBF=U+ME
complicated
algebraic equations
deconstructed within
inevitable marriages
we stand with
each other at altar,
at court, handing white
tissue in front
of casket, yawn
unspeakable pain
grief reminds us
laughter caught
on camera, our
children captured
in images our minds
can never erase,
grateful lapses
in memory ask
us to search for word,
yet entire
poems float, etched
in white, evocation
more substantial
than ghosts hover
like fireflies in June.
3 thoughts on "June 1, 2017"
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feels like a ceremony. nice
Beautifully sacred.
wondrous short lines drag me careening through the images. Great piece.