September 27, 2019

• bittersweet

  

   

  life has been tasting a little bittersweet of late
  fruits so sweet they are red
  had to have been born of a summer season.
  but nights
  are turning darker now.  ice cubes with the taste
  of lemon in a frosted glass of sweetened tea--
  that seems ages ago.

  i remember small bits of loveliness
  blooming in the orchard where we met
  each day-- back when my favorite color
  was red.  now the world is turning dull

  and my jeans are twisty around the tops
  of my fur-lined boots. mornings are bitter
  like an unripened pear for breakfast:
  a shudder rises from the back
  of my throat when i think of your breath
  warming someone else's thigh

  if i could, i would make memory
  of this season by going to you.  with my hands
  i would correct your rumpled hair,
  the cuts in your aging heart.  we could make
  an evergreen space between sun and water,
  summer and winter, cover for a quiet love,
  each of our arthritic fingers warming to supple
  in drops of sweet liquid light

  • 6:08 am
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