Missed yesterday due to the creeping crud, well, creeping all over me. I’m better tonight, though, and back with a new theme for everyone out there in Internetville. I’m combining a suggestion of “love letters to things I care about” with the form of poetry, which I find I’m most excited to return to (and TW will be happy about that!).
So, with that, here’s a love poem for a perfect moment, yesterday, just at dusk, that made me stop in the middle of the street because I couldn’t stop looking at the world around me.
For those interested in form, it’s a sonnet rhyme structure alternating slant and fixed rhyme, but without metrical constraints to match.
Here you are again, wind,
spattering the birds like tar
across the branches. They cling
and twist, serene as stars.
Like ghosts on a telephone
wire, their voices slink down,
half-ashamed. Last night’s rain’s
still slick on the ground,
the sky luminous, like God’s
shining a searchlight
through his curtains. Let
the birds explode up, tiny kites.
If that won’t bring him out,
there’s nothing for which God might leave his house.