last to leave

over you, over my knees
love is the rod that prods and beats
the heart to caress the hands,
to caress the notes from a maple branch,
you are the only clef on the staff,
the last to leave the wake of sound,
only to come back, the only apparition
beyond the light, the only light after that -
is the secret no one knows,
not you, not if they break the bones in my body,
not when all we are is a ghost whisper,
footfalls in the air, you are the howl,
to this moon, the eyes to this crow,
the ears to this trill, the dead to this vulture,
the rest is the history of grass under our feet,
the rest is an outline of earthquakes on our faces

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

interesting imagery...whatever is the ultimate...you stay one heartbeat longer...one tremor longer...

i really like the last line..."i feel the earth move under my feet"----

j.

[highonwords]

hi jacob - thank you so much for the wonderful visit and review - glad you like the poem - appreciate the visit and comment

steph