10 October 2009

a dark flower falling

Her feet, wet from wading,
leave a trail of black blossoms
as she runs.
Curls cascade from her shoulders
and catch the sun,
mimicking the fecund petals
that furl at her feet.

Skipping in curlicues,
she creates a genius floral motif of paths,
curious crop circles
flirted out from her feet.
At the center point of design
she seems to stop in time.
With sighs in her eyes,
she stares up at the sky.

Passersby pick up petals
that wither in their hands.
A whispering child
tugs on his mother’s coat,
There’s the lady whose husband
got dropped in the lake!
Mommy, Look!
The woman yanks him forward
to hasten their escape. 
The boy rubs dead flower flesh
from his fingers, and turns to look back.
The lady lingers.


The moment her husband surfaced,
dark flowers began flowing forth from her feet.

Dark flowers fall
when she walks
on the land
that binds his sky
to this earth.

Dark flowers fall
when she runs
out into the lake
that swallowed him whole.

Dark flowers fall
each time she dances
to erase the look on his face,
the instant
his glider collapsed—
-right before his spiraling descent
through the shell
of the bay.

Watching from above,
she saw
his crumpled
fetal form
as it sunk
a dark flower
beneath the glider’s
colorful carnage.

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