Because You Live..
by GEORGE BLUESTONE
BECAUSE you live,
warm suns bend anointing you,
crushed flowers populate your mouth,
and winds sift, your hair like thin sea combs.
warm suns bend anointing you,
crushed flowers populate your mouth,
and winds sift, your hair like thin sea combs.
Locus of intensities,
your neck leans back in girl’s graceful arch to the clear promise of an oriole sky,
and disparate laughter,
full-throated as blue bells,
purls the air, pinning small seashores to the wall.
When you talk,
stars of twisted silver fall clearly to the table.
your neck leans back in girl’s graceful arch to the clear promise of an oriole sky,
and disparate laughter,
full-throated as blue bells,
purls the air, pinning small seashores to the wall.
When you talk,
stars of twisted silver fall clearly to the table.
Malleable,
you fill the green hearts of concave afternoons,
softly plug the interstice of foliage,
melt in the swish and mournfulness
of rain.
you fill the green hearts of concave afternoons,
softly plug the interstice of foliage,
melt in the swish and mournfulness
of rain.
Because you live,
ribbons of maypole wing to your center,
converge in a caught root, trembling in closed hands,
speaking only to the darkness
and the room.
ribbons of maypole wing to your center,
converge in a caught root, trembling in closed hands,
speaking only to the darkness
and the room.