Spring Wish
A net not meant for Monarchs
but to recover lost meanings,
a pause
an ellipsis...
a line once drawn with a finger
in the flame of a candle,
or marked over moist sand.
In search for my own traces,
I watch patches of soil emerge
in the snow where I planted bulbs
last fall, promising images of desire
seen eyes closed all winter long.
In dreams’ fluid language,
crowded words float here and there.
I can see how they rush together,
wondering if my small net
could capture them
unless I erase my own,
would I recognize an empty space,
a silence, a likeness,
more intangible than a butterfly’s wing,
all the words lost in gestation.
I wish all retrieved spaces
be sewn together, form an afghan
to warm up solitary evenings
when curled up on a couch,
we turn the pages of a book,
viewing more than seeing, noticing
marks on margins, illegible letters
scribbled in an outburst of genius,
once central, now marginal,
an oddity on the printed page.
First published by Luciole Press
Skin Flashing Where the Garment Gapes
After The
Bather by Richard E. Miller
A water sculpture, a spring erect in the shape of a
woman, fluid as a
mirror held to the awakening sycamores, soothing
their albescent
knots and twisted joints under shedding flakes of
bark. Can’t you
feel the moisture in her curves? At first glance
you might think her
about to bathe in the clear pool by the blue
stones, but truly she is
made of water and rose from it, a teaser slowly
dropping an illusion
of a wraparound garment that is really a sheet of
water, still unable
to break down and become woman, she projects her
image over the
young man lying down on the smooth rocks, face
leaning on his bent
elbow, he watches her appear and disappear, the
sheets of water
vanishing into mist in the early hours, stares at
her skin flashing where
the garment gapes, oscillating between life and death.
First published by Blue Fifth
Review
From Under Brushstrokes (Press
53 2015)
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