Tuesday, July 5, 2005

Picnic With My Youth

Picnic With My Youth

The forest has become a graveyard
and I've lost myself
in the umber eyes of a hungry doe.
Her timid nibble at my hostas
makes me envy their bells against her lips.

I spread my skirt,
white on the ground around my knees -
a new-moon picnic in ivory
at your grave side.

Dew-silvered spider strands dance
across your name
where wasted dandelion seeds sway,
stuck like an unwanted melody
in the mind of the maker.

And there,
in the darkness I reach for you
and sing you to sleep.


  1. E - in my semi-conscious state this AM, I somehow missed this beauty. Simply stunning.

  2. Awww You're too kind! But really, I'm not THAt pretty!.... ohhhh, you mean the poem!

    haha thanks Erin, glad you enjoyed this. I really had to work at this one to make it work for me... glad it works :)

  3. I've returned to this several times and each time it deepens.

  4. Patry,
    That's a wonderful compliment. Thank you!