We’re all apprentices to love,
whether it’s buxom Natasha or old
maid Emily–each are half-gliding
toward it, up and down the aisle
while Fate clowned around.
I sat here smirking.
What’s left of the throbbing
slant-eyed monster? Has it gone to
another rehearsal squirming
under a lover’s gaze?
What numbness? Quelled by
a lack of applause? In a dream,
I tried to scale a wall,
lost my footing mired
sidling a briar.
Love’s sublime speech–would not
we prefer a plangency? What pungent
air now when fissured streams conjoin
bubbling into mist or waterfall
leave a resounding echo.
Prompt: I got inspired by Emily Dickinson’s poem on love:
You left me, sweet, two legacies,—
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;
You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.
In case you haven’t caught the hint, the next issue of Red Wolf Journal will be concerned with heart, and love. Whatever keeps the fire burning. So I thought you might want to try your hand at writing a poem about love. What is truly a legacy must have been wrought in love. On a side note, there’s a new movie about Dickinson, yippee!