Happy Couple
I approach your cross with a bouquet of eighth notes,
quarter notes—cold black stems
clinking awkwardly. With one unnailed hand,
you take my gift. Shove it in your mouth
like a fistful of beansprouts. This is how you learn
your part. We harmonize. You scrape the sky
with that free arm. I cup my eyes
upward. How I learn to cry. A hammer sits
quietly in my purse. Next to the last
nail. For now, we sing.
______________________________
[Published in The Sow's Ear Poetry Review, Vol. XIX, No. 4, Winter 2010]
[In The Sow's Ear, my poem was printed below a hauntingly captivating visual art piece called "Escape—Jasmine Flower" by Lindsay LaMonica. You can see that particular piece and the rest of her art by clicking here. So much duende.]
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