Monday, April 16, 2012

National Poetry Month: Day Sixteen

Memory from the House on Palm Street

Surely I have written before
of the birthday party/poetry reading
the handsome Italian cook
the feast
the candlelight
and the poems themselves
read with such breathy love
I am surprised we did not float
up to the ceiling or out the windows
and into the night sky.

How after all of it
we washed the mountain of dishes
and lay together
in the cool grass of early summer
holding the next twenty years
in our clasped hands.


Anonymous said...


MaxDude said...

What he said. :P

It's moving and really shows emotion and literary expertise.

(Expertise, DIGG that adjective :P)

Alexa said...

You know that little gasp that leaves you feeling like you lost the air at the back of your throat but nowhere else? That's what this image did to me. Evocative of that exact emotion in a different setting so long ago.