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After the Party
Posted on August 3rd, 2009 No commentsAfter the Party
Blue beads dangle from your neck
like silent prayers
and you sit on the floor beside your bed
murmuring at your folded hands.
I walk in slowly so as not to move the air
that carries words
from your lips to God.
On the porch is the glider.
Your grandma spent her last
years swaying and left her whispers
to hover by the oak. In those days
we said “cheers” for good-bye.
A breeze moves in. I love
your sapphire eyes
as the mountains
pour smoke across the valley
and ashes fall like gray snow
to bring forth winter
in the august heat.
We stand in this field,
staring down at the parched soil.
I think about September
when summer will have long since
withered the sunflowers
and turned their faces toward
the earth, leaving me alone
to weed this arid garden.
I need a potrait of you
to carry with me always.
I hold your face between
the sun and me to catch
the fiery outline of your silhouette
as it pours into my eyes
and burns your image forever
in the dark void
behind their lids.
Robin Reda
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Hello World!
Posted on March 1st, 2009 1 commentWelcome to the Electric Marmalade Poetry Blog!
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