1 New Poem

Evenings & Weekends

One day, all our
bookshelves will be organized,
our basement won’t have rats,
the water won’t collect at
odd angles to the foundation.

One day, the tree limbs
will reach in a riotous tangle
to god above the sky,
not cower in a broken form,
from the slice of blades.

One day, hearts will not
be so mineral, I will
cast light from every piece
of skin I have to shine
against the coming gray.

One day, we’ll cast off our coats,
dance free in rain, snow,
places hidden from glare
of great ills, the blistering
peace that chills an arid land.

One night, when things come alive,
the sparkling illusion leaves space
for withering love, toughened by
the silence of years, passed
between us, unnoticed in their grace.