When my hollow present blows
the dying embers in the heart grate,
fond childish cinders glow up;
the frozen black memory melts past colors,
a sparkle of rainbow recollections.
As I walk up on our trodden pavement
I see a slash of sea between houses,
your red dress like a bright red boat
sink in golden sand, blue fishing nets
brown fort walls, green lichen beach;
my soul speaks, my lips move
a frequency of meetings, a wave of hugs.
As I net to catch these moments
like a street urchin’s yellow fists
holding the rainbow in his tiny grasp.
This was originally published in Fall 2017 edition of The Helix.
