Even Years Later
In the lavender scent
of the cedar,
I find her,
I pine for her.
Just there
in the drawer’s corner,
just there
in the kerchief’s corner,
in the paled wood
of those right angles–the rubbed warmth
of her inner wrists,
and in the linen worn translucent as a ghost–
the dab behind the lace
of those white curls, lengthening
earlobes (their surprisingly
soft skin)–
There are so many kinds
of temples-
my head in her lap,
the blue of darkening windows,
the purple
of far fields.
*********************
Here’s a very very drafty instinctive sort of poem for Hannah’s prompt on With Real Toads to write of lavender. I am also posting this to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night. I am still away from home, and since I like to use my own artwork, am having to go with whatever pictures I have on my computer–I think this one is actually of lilac, but I’’ll pretend it’s lavender, if you will!
ManicDDaily 
Recent Comments