I wear my loves

I wear my loves
Do not cry
Do not cry for me
I will not cry for you

I wear the sky as
opal on my skin
keep it shining

Do not cry
Do not cry for me
I will not cry for you

I wear the sunset’s
vermillion and ash
fleeting in my blush

Do not cry
Do not cry for me
I will not cry for you

I wear the fields’
lime-light carpet
walk in them

Do not cry
Do not cry for me
I will not cry for you

I wear the oaks’
writhing crackled bark
remember to touch them

Do not cry
Do not cry for me
I will not cry for you

I wear the grasses
Fuzzy tips of saffron
feel them in my hair

Do not cry
Do not cry for me
I will not cry for you


I carry music
in my fingers, toes and loins
hear it, touch it, feel it.
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You can hear my voice, and enchantedoak, on this new podcast from last week on our local public radio station. http://kcbx.org/mp3archive/eoa091202.mp3 Hooray for local poetry on the air!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not For Sale

Reunion

I woke It up.
It was resting and waiting,
Empty for so long.
I opened it up,
Gave It some air.
It breathed.

Thinking I was alone,
I caressed each room.
It startled me
By playing sounds of life,
Frightening me into the certainty
I wasn't alone.

Taking it apart
brick by brick,
(might as well be)
Erasing personal clutter, & worn foot-paths
So that strangers will
Assess It's worthiness.

Even when we'd taken back everything,
It birthed up more for us to cradle.
Out of the farthest corners of rusted-paint-cans, rat-crap,
chewed-cardboard-beetle-beds:
Grandbabies' photos, wedding planners,
Hand-made Father's day cards, a favorite uncle's watercolors.

It never stops
creaking, moaning, humming.
Habitation.
(Why should an empty home sound uninhabited?)
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-Holidays make me miss my mom, and seek my siblings
This was written a year ago, july, amidst a crying break in the middle of shampooing the carpets of my old home. This theme seems to be emerging with fellow writers this month. -Peace
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-all rights reserved, 2009