a draft

the ripe glow between the rooftops
is a wedge of strawberry pie.
always hungry, i throw on a sweater
and pad toward this mid-evening delicacy.

i step straddling over a wire fence,
scramble up the backyard hill,
ready to feast; oh! it was a mirage,
not a sliver of thing to be gobbled up,
but a long roll of wool
carded clean and dyed rose, a gift from
the island sheep who now bleat their bored complaint.

my mouth is dry.

thankfully,
over my shoulder the moon is peach ripe for plucking;
i press it to my lips, then reconsider;
o my daughters,
sitting at our dinner table beyond this earth’s curve,
i will blow it like a kiss
toward you.


6 Responses to “sunset on iona”  

  1. 1 Mamala

    I’m sure they felt the brush of your kiss that evening

  2. 2 Kelley

    This is yummy! Nice, nice.

  3. 3 spookyrach

    wow.

  4. 4 ppb

    :-)

  5. 5 Sarah

    In the words of a mutual friend/mentor/prof…wowowowow. I saw the skies and tasted and saw that all is good.

  1. 1 pickapoem at reverendmother


Leave a Reply



Asides

RSS

» A note to readers who are looking at the new blog: you’ll notice some “greatest hits” from reverendmother there, especially as I ramp up my writing in that space. Sorry for the déjà vu! # 0

» There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places. -Wendell Berry # 0

» “The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope.” -Barbara Kingsolver # 0