a delicate truth poem

Once again I was at the poetry club, and so here is my April poem. I’m back in Romania for Open Hands work next week, but back soon for more music and book fun. Stay tuned.


A delicate truth

These spring days I spend

under the pear tree thinking of

shadows and light lost

and the rocky helicopter ride

 

Our thoughts became our souls

until there were no more days

no more royal blue sunsets

to calm the mistakes I’ve made

 

I walked through the golden field

until I found you crying over

a dead butterfly

“things mean a lot”

 

i wish I could drain the pain I’ve caused you

wait until winter and start again

by the broken bridge

of tomorrow’s dream.


 

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