Maria

It lifted
Like the spirit
As a dove,
Like a winter cough,
The hearts in 
Foggy breath
On windowpanes,
A fingerprint.

It felt so permanent.
It tasted of eternity.

The dust of the earth
Was heavier
Than we thought
At first.
We could not comprehend it.

We stayed
And watched
As it ascended.

- 5/13/26

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Alone at the Museum

I explored exhibits Tracing history And present geological conditions. I realized My mind was roaming, Conjuring reactions, Thoughts,  Remarks from you All while the warmest wash Cascaded down my bones And something stirred Disturbing, comforting So deep inside my stomach. Friends are more important Than another lover. So I tell myself, But when you're close I nearly touch your skin Instinctively. I healed so greatly From my former romantic disaster. When will I Allow myself to fall again, Or has your gravity Already taken me? - 12/8/25
Read more

The Parade's Gone By

After prom, The big game, As they sweep the streets Beneath the sunrise, Do you find you're hanging on? The holiday, The love affair, The ice cream cone, The hours on the sofa In the melting light Alone. You thought you found a home, But even husbands Fade inside the fighting And go away. He jumped the gun, You see, Misreading his needy heart As if he can't decipher His own handwriting. You gave up everything. There's no one now Beside you In the dead and hollow quiet On the morning after Easter. - 4/6/26
Read more

Alien

On my bench down the stairs, I create these small aliens To release them freely, Dropped from high exploding Like ink-filled balloons. Most people never notice. None of them are Shakespeare. Most aren't any good, Yet every one of them Reveals something That's beautiful or pure, Although they speak a strange language Few decipher. Some just rudely scoff And some are lovely But remain with oddest angles, Uneasy, Off, And though they're not exactly Visiting from space, They don't belong here. Even when disguised, They're unnatural, Misplaced. I've no idea why  I sweat and sacrifice so many hours Giving them life. Perhaps they keep my hands from being empty Or allow me foolishly to trust I've meaning, purpose. Most people never notice. - 5/8/26
Read more