Children's voices cross the ocean cross
the ocean to the island to the ground
solid as imagination will allow
there is no heaven but what's in us
then she's gone leaving me here
with a fourth wall oddly like
a computer screen press enter
in the corner of my eye a movement
can shadows be pure like children's
laughter or summer linen laid across
the hedgerows between showers
bleached by the sun worn to that
one gathering of beings a bouquet
of bluebells and dappled light
a blanket on the ground littered
with leaves fallen so many seasons gone
there was no need for a throw
and so I don't know any of this
her name the color of the ribbons
undone the purity of laughter
in the smoke of nostalgia
for an event I can't swear to
only sense in passing over
my shoulder I'm bending
for the asparagus in the morning
a flicker of white a rise
in cadences within if that's where
heaven is she's there with summer
and shy bluebells nodding and
shadows I seem to have ignored shadows
avoiding the whole truth now
destined to a life in ghostly passage
between my experience
and someone else's memory
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
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