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Love Letter #47: Yellow Butterflies

I remember counting stars when I was small and then, suddenly, I was all grown up, watching one fall (the night you died,) but it seemed like a thousand came crashing down into the center of my heart.

Just when I began to doubt love, it blew in carrying me to a mountaintop where he knelt with a ring and a question that led me here, seven years later watching him sleep; stroking his hair in my 2:00 am insomnia.

You would have loved him; the way he smiles when I talk about you for hours in a rented RV on our anniversary as my tears spill on his shoulder. He makes me laugh until my stomach hurts; until I forget why I was crying, how my eyes light up when he walks in the door and how he holds my hand, even when we are sleeping.

You would hate it here today; the pause of trees, the frightened hum of nature bowing to the unknown and the faint twinkle of stars amidst an unstable moon, the earth trembling under bare feet as flowers sway in the weep of disturbing winds,

but, in the summer, yellow butterflies follow my every step and a sky full of fireflies reminds me that you still bring the light.

~for Eloy. I miss you

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Love Letter #44: Severed Merger

You left my heart
on the boardroom floor
Friday, June 23rd at 12:40

just after your lunch settled,

you skillfully drafted
this unsettling letter.

I feel like a broken contract,
and oh, my spirit, shattered,
falling, like the expectations
I built like blocks in your image.

I made you tall, but the idol
came crashing down

and I wondered if you ever noticed

my eyes are the color of yours;
my timid smile, this face,
so easily erased from your mind
as if I never existed,

Oh, but I do

and these broken pieces
can be put back together
by a carpenter

and a love that never fails.

~

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Against This Present Darkness

Eyes rise and fall
with simple shading of clouds
upon a face;
a bowed head
seeking shelter
from raging tempests;

from love’s ache.

Night comes quietly
like snowflakes in winter;
like the whisper of psalms
​ beyond candlelit curtains.

I keep your words with me
soft syllables of grace,
sweet shelter

in the midst of my storm.

~

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Cleansed

I used to wait for rain
stand, palms up, pleading
for earth to fall away

so I could bloom;

sat under that weeping willow
many a Sunday, sleeping
under the swish of limbs,
tremble of railroads
echoing at my back-
ears attuned
only to cardinal’s song
to fade the noise
of Monday coming,

It took years of suffering
to open my wings,
to close the umbrella
to feel the son;

to feel the sun.

~

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Morning Glory

 

Oh, light, posing promise,

                        like posies,

        picked apart, strewn;

             hidden,

        like morning glory,

 

                                blooming

                below bedroom windows.

 

Oh, jealous moon

     tempting twilight,

        with its scattered stars

 

         swirling,

 

  like the thoughts

         you left me with.

~

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Dahlias

All I wanted was to stop the noise;
the bleak conversations in my head.

My whole life has been words-
words and thousands of tears.
You brought me baubles and beads,
gold, shiny things, but, oh!,
what I would have given
for a few moments of your time.

I see you standing there
your hands holding long, red stems

after you stole my heart.

~
Day 29 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

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The Saddest Season

Blooming can be the saddest season.
Grow, spread,
wither away

like petals
from a tombstone
covered in last Winter’s poinsettias.

I closed my window ,
drew the blinds,
wandering through the wildflowers
of my mind

to the last glimpse of sun;
feelings following the scent
of honeysuckles

all the way to the end of April.

 

 
~Day 28 of NaPoMo *a poem a day in April for National poetry month)