Half-Moon Reflections

You took us to the green of morning,
maiden grass;

poetry, as gentle and relentless
as a flock of birds at sunrise,
full sun, half-moon reflections;
falling stars like mirrors
into souls.

I had the misconception
that I was strong;
that I knew the beauty
of being naturally, me,
but then your colors ran across pages
sprinkling joy and crushing hate
with love and weary fingers.

This emptiness when I swallow,
this overwhelming flow of syllables
teeming in my chest won’t translate to paper

and the only words I can muster up
are the last two you said to me:

thank you.

 

 

~for Darcy…a poet and an inspiration

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