Sunday, April 25, 2021

poem 68

Littlecity 
V.
we never forget love swirlin’ under stardust
swaying west in spins defying knowledge  
fueling decades of dreams we hold and burnish
like great-granny’s tiny spoon collection
began when her young man sent her one
during the war he never spoke of once he came home
never explaining how he got it or nothin’ 
about the brightly enameled castle on real gold plate
except how the castle looked in the moonlight
reminding him of Molly and their last night
curled together under a ratty wool blanket
in his dad’s old blue pickup top of buckthorn ridge
and how remembering lovin’ and talkin’ and cudlin’
in her arms got him home alive even if nothing else
hid inside him made sense no more
to keep on living he somehow found and bought Molly
another teeny gold enameled spoon every april
every year a different picture but always springtime
until he dropped dead filling in on the green chain
two days before he turned seventy

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