River stones

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


River stones  
 

 
 

Oh (on) the way—it is snowing  

light and lilac, Tievine: moon flower—yawning

on the roadside—between mottled oaks, with milky spots

that open; a hundred summer windows in umber eyes 

the color of earth—salt in the forest air —I traipse along

the footpath littered with fossils: daydreams common 

as blue violets/bushy bluestem silver pink—prefigures

a vision through needles; longleaf pine trims the asphalt

sunburnt bark that is my own; I follow the klee-klee-klee

of a southeastern American kestrel/smaller than a mourning dove

it calls in flight, cries onyx tears, its nest in snags—want to go

that way by trail—set sail from terra firma—pry each window

open, like an egg/slosh through; the hours wet on my knees

past lowlands—roots exposed; I slip home in a strip of sunlight, 

build a chrysalis around my vision/drop lavender in my palms  

and breathe—in: memories that never happened, uncut gems

caught in a sieve/leave a shadow, all those evenings

follow the footpath, trace the lines—of water-filled lips, 

braid my arms around your body/cedar hair like cirrus clouds 

: a hundred curling rivers—goldenrod and winter; I look up, 

you warmsoup on the stove top—your hands in mine, 

worn smooth like river stones


Submitted: November 07, 2020

© Copyright 2020 A.Parrino. All rights reserved.

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Poem / Poetry