Full Bloom

you

are the stone fence I walked

along, running my finger tips against

the rough edge, lazy on a summer

day, head tilting to the sun.

you are the cherry blossom

that lilts softly

to earth, alights upon my cheek,

kiss of heaven.

you are the tower guard, who

paces halls, waits for entry

comes, dabbing at my brow, lifting

delicate spoons of broth to my lips

a cradling yearly reminder

of my redemptive hope.

you are, haltingly, the idol

at whose feet I tremble

where I count the

fingers of my hands,

hold my worth in tiny spirals

blowing sanity off like 

sawdust that lingers

after the chair is built.

I can do nothing but sit

in your house,

purchased,

too far gone to repent

or wonder.

I am forever, through all these

weaving centuries

yours

Reviews

[@]

Exquisite word craft.
Beautifully expressed.

Poetry !

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Oh dear! Is this what I THINK it is? Is this your musings on the possible poetic son of Carla Fay Tucker or someone similar?? Or is this person merely in "a facility"?

[Kristina Moulaison]

Wow, that's creepy! Didn't even know who that was. I'm not sure I can explain this one really. So suppose away. Hilarious assessment...I love it!

[Kristina Moulaison]

Actually you would like a bit of the truth here. This is a love story.