The last yellow Italian plate, edged with green –
The blue ceramic bowl just right for cereal –
The moment the dark boy leaned his head towards me –
The shape of the perfect paragraph for the exam –
The time to write the story that would change a life –
The elegance of their childhood before the hormones came –
The marriage that was pledged when promises felt fibrous
And could weave us together: They floated in slow time
Through viscous air to smash with grace on solid ground
Below where my hand, opened, let them go.
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This is really wonderful, Liz. I keep going back to pull out a favorite phrase to mention, but really can't choose one and not another, because they're all so lovely. Okay, maybe 'the elegance of their childhood before the hormones came,' or 'when promises felt fibrous and weave us together,' or.... see my problem?
ReplyDeleteI just love this poem Liz. "They floated in slow time Through viscous air to smash with grace on solid ground" - BEAUTIFUL!!!!
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