yellow flowers painted on
her heart, she sings songs
in her sleep of pretty birds
plain talk is her favorite
but her abstract mouth blooms
words and pictures we can only dream
she makes rain fly across the yard
one way, then the other
something magic in the
photograph she sees in her mind
Kodak paper that grows tentacles
of light and bright water colors
red for the long way home
yellow for the candlefly fluttering
green for her feet
and in an instant, death comes to
life in a postcard or swimming pool
where steam rises from the warm
water into the cold air
snowflakes melt before
hitting the water
her face is long like a shadow
and we don't know what she is saying
but we still like the way the words and pictures look
6 comments:
I wanted to say the name change is a step up. Keep up the good work. (it didn't feel appropriate to leave this comment on yesterday's tragic blog.)
you have painted this with a fine tipped brush making something beautiful-more than a work of art, a work of love
I keep trying to pick out my favorite stanza, but I can't!! Holly, this is so very beautiful, so soft, and yes, so loving. The voice is perfect. I love the many languages and the many colors. Sister, you're doing some great stuff over here!
A beauty, this one Holly. So love
the name change, whew!
The woman you poem, must be a
free-spirit.
Beautiful and sad. Great work Holly.
gorgeous. really gorgeous.
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