by Katarina Boudreaux

To see the heaven
of trillion days
and endless sun play
within the depths of
sky dipped eyes…
to feel the reach
of all that is human,
that is artificial,
drip away from
new-found silver
stemming frond like
from the limbs;
to sleep with
the well worked knowledge
of cohabitve age ghosts
wrapped about
the big toe in
simple, twisted bow.

For the days
to fleet foot by
with eyed vigilance
and yet to stop
feather light whir
with the snap of
your sparkled finger –
to forget all that is right
and remember all
that was gold touched
with the expense of
earth born and carried
precious jewel lips —

that is my lyric.

Comments are closed.

Subscribe to Mailing List