Categories
Poetry

On Memories and Dreams

John 1:3

If through You
All things were made
And all things are possible

I know why
Lilacs smell like rainbows
And antiseptic

Winter wind
Stings like steel
Needles in my vein

I remember one summer
Sweet as lemonade
Sharp as a scalpel blade.

In my dream 
I taste warm cinnamon

I kneel beneath
Watercolor skies

Fold my hands
Round this tiny wren

Its injured wing
Quivers 

Like its
Trembling heart

I unfold my hands
But I will not wake 

Until my dreams 
Become memories

And I keep my memories
To do with as I please.

Categories
Poetry

What Endures?

Trimming the Tree

One glass swan
Color of Riesling
Weightless.
What else endures?
Nothing
Ornamental
Nothing fragile
Not artifacts
No relics
This frost-lit night
December’s tea-stained sidewalk
The aurora
Flowing through
The cold black sky
Thick with stars?