A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
in the mornings of my days
with you, I am gloriously normal. my head remains connected to my body. the colors all stay attached to their respective things: blue to sky. orange to orange your skin is freckled brown which is also of the earth. we suspect even the long- lost color of breath will any day slink back through the yard like an old cat. I am waking to the smell of toast and the crepuscular hiss of the coffee maker. light leaks into the world through its windows and valves. I will know what to do with my arms and lips, a simple recipe which never grows old even as the cook does. we get tired of our own reflection in water-pots but the stainless steel soup ladle will shine through an apocalypse. I am remembering how in an old life I jumped off rooftops with daisies between my teeth. the roads were new and thrown down everywhere; pedestrians were outlawed outright. I dismantled things efficiently and ate off countertops. there wasn’t a plate in the house. ‘okay,’ I said when you asked, ‘but I’m not giving up on my sadness.’ all the stars in were listening and winking. ‘we don’t have to trade’ the world said. ‘there is a little house for your sadness right here in this house.’ meanwhile an albatross was trying to lift my head into the sun. ‘not yet,’ I said. ‘even the useless parts are welcome here. when we made our pact years ago, there was no need for the ground. but I have found another way, bird, and at last my toes are in agreement with me.’ Comments are closed.
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Poetry LogPoems are posted here when I'm ready to share them. I often don't title my poems. The date you see above the poem may be the date it was posted here and not necessarily the date it was created. To see more, click on the Archives below. Archives
January 2020
CategoriesUnless otherwise noted, all content ©Paul-William Gagnon, Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-NoDerivs license.
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