If you want some love poetry, I'm posting some of my favorites on Twitter until Valentine's Day. And this is new, a poem inspired by Chagall's painting "The Birthday", among other miraculous things. Especially from one particular being - someone a poet friend called "my beautiful muse." The Birthday Despite my mother’s warnings against superstition and the black book pressed into her lap, its exhortations: in the dark ink of nothingness, on the white paper of winter skies. Despite the cost of butter for a cake, and the warning to save candles for blackouts. Despite years of loneliness packed into my bones like rationed flour. I bought flowers for my birthday and refused to pretend otherwise. I made a cake and broke a pomegranate while it baked, counted each jeweled seed as it burst on my tongue while I waited. I opened the window to March wind. Despite everything, I made a wish. It floated out on sugared air. You floated back on jonquil breath. Decades of stinginess had taught me to wish only for a kiss. Some granter of wishes, not conversant in lack, gave me you.
3 Comments
Moni
1/30/2014 12:10:53 pm
i feel this beautifully
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Michelle
1/30/2014 11:46:47 pm
Thank you, sweet Moni!!
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