“The First together is the morning itself
the marrying wish of dew
the first dance of the grass,
renewed like a child’s clock.
The Early light unaware of the low hum
that entwines the mood of the air-
in high memory cries.
And we remember the ghosts better in the morning,
the rising light that is always a grace
on the back of the things you love
scattered through the house like Lego.
The bed remains ancient in its ritual of worship
a personal attack against strangers
made up of all its own Trojan wars
hung in literature, un-debated.
It is easy to believe that is is privilege to grow old
in the morning and that age is young
and all that is above will remain immortal
regardless of loneliness.
Experimenting on a smaller canvas for some larger scale pieces that I will be working on soon. This is part of my Bloom series, but a little more abstract than the previous versions. Will be experimenting with both versions as they get larger and will share of course. xo