Sunday, May 19, 2013

For my Jo

Lilac petals on newly turned soil
and the sun, speckled green
and lift up your head
and I lift it blueward
there is my face and I
countenance
taking your hand
and you look low
and your hand chills
and I want it whole
future, present, past
and you
are a little taller than my bosom
and I would like to
hold you to the sky
watch your curls dance
and hear that giggle
once more.

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