November 2, 2018Poem for a Blue Page
Tonight I am remembering
the Krishna-skin
skies of summer
& the way your laugh
made a jacaranda tree bloom.
We slept in sheets the color of sea glass &
I woke with the taste of salt
in my mouth.
Happiness is devastating
in the past tense.
I lay these memories, like a fish,
on the cutting board.
Slice them open &
the deepest blue
spills onto this poem.
from #61 - Fall 2018