Monday, November 1, 2010

The Writing

(For Juanita and her Daughter.)

The afternoon lost its balance
when leaves began to palpitate.
A sea gull appeared
with the wind, his wings
gracefully etching the sky.

I thought of the fine script
on a glossy matchbook.
Diondra was written next
to the young man with whom
I had entrusted her life.

Bird, sky and pulsing leaves
grew more intense. I felt dizzy,
heard sirens in the distance.

Those match tips -- so red
flammable, struck my mind
then blood clots, a heart
slowly burned out

and I saw her blond hair caught
in a spider's web of glass,
a shattered wind shield
when my neighbor said

a car slammed
into a bus parked
along the shopping plaza

The wind paused; and I knew
I would see that script again,
her name engraved
on a Wedgwood jar ---

soft blue, my daughter's breath
sifted into ash.
Note -Painting is by artist, Jeanie Tomaneck.

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