to Sandra
Such things as
the dentist
and a lopped-off palm,
her cup flung
again.
and the stain
from the oil that drips
and dots the cover,
The pale green splotched with
yellow,
The mermaid's purple tail,
Her seizure
and my prayer,
The nurse's scarf
a drape over the sun,
in your other room.
Your dark son,
his light,
your hand, his heart
Such is,
of the type previously mentioned.
Our tiny mind
and the relentless
grind.
Aching and beautiful. Such a sense of both yearning and accommodation. Is that the word? Or that's how it strikes me.
ReplyDeleteYou are a brilliant light.
ReplyDeleteOh breathless achy felt and felt and known.
ReplyDeleteIntense and painful. I am continually wowed by you. Where does it all come from? All of you?
ReplyDeletebeautiful powerful seeing.
ReplyDeleteTerrific images and feeling and sadness and love.
ReplyDeleteOh, Elizabeth. Such beauty and sadness.
ReplyDeleteGood morning. Somehow I missed this post yesterday. It is perfection. xo
ReplyDeletei have no words for the power of your words.
ReplyDelete