teasingbrunette, I'm glad you saw the imagery. Thank you for dropping by!

Quan, thank you for your kind words, truly.


Happy Holidays,
Duck!

Candle Light
 
I want to leave
how I remember you best, 
not with child, not in the bake
of banana bread,
but by the eggy light
of candles. 
 
*
 
I see the flame's reflection, 
its cuticle and nail,
cupped in the hand
of your eye.
 
*
 
Somewhere
the light reaches,
casts a shadow,
wears your body.
I sat through half the movie
in that black white life. 
 
*
 
It’s not that I see any clearer.
Candles have a thirst for darkness,
as does the moon
or coffee,
or religion.
 
*
 
It’s the light that pushes me away;
light divorcing the flame,
hand closing the eye.

Pot of Gold

I once followed the end of a rainbow
to a swap meet.
It was nothing more
than antique glassware for sale,
in a full spectrum of color,
that happened to dish up sunlight
and serve it back
to the sky.