Red Ink

not just a little …
I wrote my poem and I cleaned the extra ink
I impressed the letters with gold leaf
I drew daisies and buttercups
I made small holes in the paper with a needle
as if my poem were supposed to stay here like a special gift cake
and you did not even look at it

I told you why I like the tall stained glass at Sainte Chapelle
and the smiling angels from the Chartres cathedral
I explained to you how I feel about Gaudi’s blossoming stone
resembling castles made by children from fine sand and sea water
I cried for all the beautiful things
I saw rainbows through my eyelashes
I raised my hands in prayer
like the open mouths of swallow chicks under the eaves
but walls glided between my fingers
wherever I opened a window there was another wall facing it
colder and colder walls as if I were a Cinderella
working out my soul in vain

not a single letter in my mailbox
not even the image of a heart copied with carbon paper
from a discount drugstore catalog…
and I still love you after all

Categories: My Poems in 2015, Uncategorized | Tags: | Leave a comment

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