Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Still Life

Still Life

I sit
by a dish of light
with darkness at my back.
I throw in words,

flowers of flame; only
the dry, bright ones--
you, remember, once, then--

while I leave the sodden
syllables in a pile--
now, tomorrow, alone, gone--

for nothing
will make them

We can't speak the tongues
of each other's pain;
still, we huddle in light
and forgive.

~August, 2018

Image: Stilleben mit Blumen, 1908, by Heinrich Kuhn    Public domain