Thursday, February 9, 2012

February 9, 2012

We drove out, far from the city to see the moon.
My spirit was broken and there was nothing to say.
He leaned his seat back and I did the same.
There was only the moon and the open field
And nothing to say.
The sky was almost black and reached long
Like my mother's coat a long time ago
I thought about explaining the way her hair 
Was black when I was a child
As black as his
As black as the sky
And it brushed my face when I leaned in
to the curve of her neck
But the words wouldn't come
There are no words for things so beautiful
As the way it felt to be held like that
The way it feels to be in the chasm of in-between
A mother's love and a man's love
And I 
in the curved palm of the open black sky.
When I can't explain
I cry
And his confusion has learned to rest
The way he did that night
Being there, being silent
He and I and the moon
And my mother's love.
I couldn't explain that she was there
In the pieces of me
In what has been lost and what has been found
In the moon of an open field
And her black hair

 When I lean in
To the chasm of in-between 
It brushes my face 
In tears
In words 
Of what can't be explained
In the curved palm of the open black sky
And in nothing to say.

1 comment:

carmar76 said...

beautiful, boo
love you more than chocolate!