
Reliquary
On Sunday morning under orange bougainvillea,
your picture spills from an old album.
You were on a verandah under purple bougainvillea,
drinking the hot noon from your coffee cup
as I drank passion fruit and watched Lake Tana birth the Nile.
Later, kneeling by the river, I made my hand into a cup,
but you called out that slow death swam the blood
of those who touched the river,
while behind you on harsh branches,
black birds barked stark music.
Now, on Sunday morning under orange bougainvillea,
half a world and half a life away,
I restore you to your proper place, remembering how,
when they laid you down to dream beneath the purple bougainvillea,
it was passion fruit’s sweet poison that flavored my life.
This is a poem from my book If I Were Water and You Were Air, to be published soon,
For RDP: Relic
So descriptive and held me with each stanza Judy.
Thanks for joining in 😀
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Thanks, Brian. I barely got posted before midnight as I was in Guadalajara all day.
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Very beautiful and well constructed
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important vivid words that transcend. Each chosen w care. Colorful. Passionate. So very sad. The words take on life. And the reader experiences the beauty of those two lives and the loss. You are a powerful poet. I am honored to know you. Ann
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Thanks, Ann. Wish I’d chosen to publish photos with the poems in my new book. Still waiting for the formatter to get it up on Amazon. I may have to do it myself. This poem is in the book of 50 years of love poems.
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❤️
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❤️
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I was about to ask if you’d finished writing that story! Fantastic!
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