Her veritas

A tune hummed itself across my mind,
travelled over barren desert dunes,
cerebrum folds, and down my spine;

A quiver.

it lost its nerve halfway, and stopped at
the next line, overlooking the bay,
where we once made love all night

A shiver.

word by word, I knew she was embedded
in the chill that ran her finger down my back;
I still feel her veritas in those charitable acts.

Fingers which grew feathers,
very tender;
tomboyish, before they found
their sudden and skillful tact,

I still carry our song great distances,
her transformative soul inside my pack.
every falling star fuels remembrances,
the beauty of things past.

Reviews

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Beautiful, tender, evocative poem. Eloquent language and lovely subtleties and nuances. Delicate imagery describes the "veritas" of a woman's love.- "Fingers which grew feathers"- stunning. Kudos!

[Maxwell Ryder]

Annette, I'd like to say thank you for these kind and thoughtful words. Beautiful! Thank you, again.