Prelude to Artillery


The air of the park seems to whisper
Breath hung suspended in a white cloud
Point to a single snowflake and close your eyes
Your profile against the sleeping city



Your eyes hold mine in a soft cage
Whisper of your acceptance
Press of paper in my hands
Speckle of dirt across the cover of a tattered notebook



To stare at the stars from a rooftop
A cricket sings of desperation
To strain to listen with your entire being
This city throbs with heartache



Your delicate pages of hope
Pressed flowers faded by separation from earth
Poems that are beautiful in their isolation
Stories that give animation to the warm backs of stones



Amber notes of a sparrow turn the day clear
Ozone fills the cracks of my vision
Heartbeat quickens in the periphery
Creeping thyme has spread to the edge



Dark eyes glitter in the water’s silver cast
Beach glass rests in faded rows along driftwood
Your hand brushes mine as it reaches for the stars
Waves are proud to reflect this galaxy



You understand that dark and light are the same
Two animals curled inside each other’s crescents
They breathe on the edge of the universe
They are not the absence of light nor the presence



To grow old on this same hill is to become
To watch the ashes of the forest settle into a canyon
The sky churns with rage
It has not learned how to erase the changing



I will remember you
Lifting your face to the gentle rain
Polishing purple sea glass on your faded jeans
Sitting for hours with your ear against a tree, listening

I will remember you.

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This Poems Story

I was originally using this poem to give a character a backstory.