Poems and Lovelorn Thoughts, Vol. XXII

Taking Flight

She walked across the dew-glass grass,

Quivering-barefoot-soft,

Leaving trails of sugar-cube daisies in her wake.

Gusts of angry wind tore at her hair and whipped

Her dress around the backs of her purple-pale

Ankles, but she did not stop for a second,

She flew across the land with scrawny

Peregrine arms, borne up by clouds

Of song-sweet chickadees and pearl-eye

Pigeons. She left trails of sugar-cube

Daisies in her wake.

 

Strawberries

 

The story of us

Spilled out with

The slow silence

Of black-sad strawberries

Bleeding

Drop by drop

Over a white-lace

Tablecloth.

On The Creation of Stars

 

Every evening,

When the egg-yolk sun melts,

Staining the tops of the trees,

I like to believe that bits of its golden yellow

Zip up to the sky magnet-style,

Clutch at empty lightbulbs hanging

On clear strings, settling growing

Into miniature lanterns fit for

A fairy’s home, if fairies live in space.

Small and bright, they restitch

Themselves into silky silver light,

Keeping the space fairies warm

And keeping our dreams -- those fragile,

Fabric things -- aloft.