We walk back down the natural tunnel, over the wide road, past the lake filled with lily pads, and back through the wildflowers. I stop again, close my eyes; and breathe.
This poem came to me in a “steam of consciousness” as many of my poems do. I feel it’s about survival of abuse, and coming back stronger than before.
I was thinking about a man I once knew, but this story is about the girl who brought us together; and who we both loved.
How do you know when something has died?
A root from the earth,
and stars in her eyes.
This spring weather has been unpredictable. Unseasonably warm sunshine bleeds into dark curling storm clouds, threatening tornados. Some evenings I walk outside and breathe in the smell of the wet earth, growing again after the floods. Then, I take the children for walks during the day and we save half-dried worms off the warming concrete sidewalks. I’m not sure why, but I could never leave them there to wither.
They don’t even know it, but they redeemed me. They lead me to the water of forgiveness. I was born, when they were born.
Noemi Her hair is lighter than it used to be I marvel at her long slender legs That were once short with baby fat Those big eyes are still big and beautiful And right now […]