Tuesday, January 21, 2014
In Memoriam
Today, I walked with a nuance; it has its vocation
& is of the spirit.
Where the muse allows us to go, blesses the spirit.
To not bully or order words around,
To not interrupt words.
Marriage was a waist around her, sheltering.
With her fires & flowers blooming
adoration aside, she shelters our
journey, beckons, subsides, the quarter
moon invites star-shaped sea flowers mighty mist.
What do we have but a road & a sky.
The red sash dashes towards the door & a hand
made of red roses sends childhood pictures.
The nuance is there is no childhood; it’s a mint
green flower at the pool’s end. For within the opening I
leave the nuance, sit in shadow, face hidden.
Lexington & Kenmore, I look up & all the lights in the sky
are Wanda’s eyes.
11 28 13
Harry E. Northup
(Published with the permission of the author, Harry E. Northup. Copyright Harry Northup. All rights reserved to the author.)
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