i took the waxing half moon from the evening daylight & placed it inside this poem’s blue sky
last time i did this i said it was you
the meadowlark perched on electric wire singing liquid perfect fourths into the western sky
—we have to go back—
hardly the way to say goodbye
the quince is about to erupt crimson next to the trash cans & yellow picnic table & metal chaise lounge without any cushions
about to erupt whether you take notice or not
—we have to go back—
ok. the dogwood blossomed blushing crucifixes in the park. the white tablecloth & napkins downstairs. you strolled in folds of laughter & linen & henna—
laughter’s nerves—blue cigarette smoke—
a teddy bear left behind in an Italian restaurant
—we have to go back—
“don't want you to worry i'm angry or disturbed or anything like that meant what i said”
i took the waxing half moon from the evening daylight & placed it inside this poem’s blue sky
a voice singing. liquid western sky. a perfection of loss.
—we have to go back—
understanding again for the first time i won’t know you
Jack Hayes
© 2011
i took the waxing half moon from the evening daylight & placed it inside this poem’s blue sky
ReplyDeleteBeautiful - the poem as a world with a blue sky, and you're crafting it.
Other beautiful words: "liquid perfect fourths" and "you strolled in folds of laughter"
I love the nervous energy in this, of trying to recreate something that's lost, that keeps slipping away (at least that's the sense I got from reading it).
Hi HKatz: Thanks--this one took more revision than usual; I'm glad you liked it!
ReplyDelete