It's another late night
when rain strokes the yard
into gore-blue slate strakes.
Beyond the almond-thin window
a car hurtles into a red away
at the same time
as your face pushes
through the plum-colored
angelfish orchids
right to my blanket eye
as I wake from a dream
about snow in Dublin.
A moon bathes in Judas rain,
in dense yellow shadow;
although I am so alone -
I have never been so alone -
I feel your presence
in this strange convergence
of a flower's face, and
the memory of motherless snow.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 9:12 PM UTC
It's another late night
when rain strokes the yard
into gore-blue slate strakes.
Beyond the almond-thin window
a car hurtles into a red away
at the same time
as your face pushes
through the plum-colored
angelfish orchids
right to my blanket eye
as I wake from a dream
about snow in Dublin.
A moon bathes in Judas rain,
in dense yellow shadow;
although I am so alone -
I have never been so alone -
I feel your presence
in this strange convergence
of a flower's face, and
the memory of motherless snow.
