July 24, 2011

How Poetic












lifeboats,
   lifeboats,
        lifeboats

featherweight
mom speaks to me with feathers,
mute tongues,
soft messages prompting my journey,
punctuation under my footstep.

this summer i collected six black feathers
i wondered what sense
came with these announcements.

before leaving for my wife's surgery
i found a blue feather in our evergreen
out of the blue,
a silken promise of open skies.

the purification took place,
Nata had malignancy pared out.

.....cancer......
the surgeon cut out my tongue.

i carried my devastation outside of the hospital,
wept over a sewer pipe, broken gestalts,
negotiated with eternity,
smoked a cigarette.
under my foot, a blue feather.

when Nata came out of surgery
she said, "i'm glad i got that off my chest".
i knew we'd be okay.

i told her about the feather,
a mother's reassurances
that there will be blue skies.....




visit soon for more writings from the book 'lifeboats, lifeboats, lifeboats' 


visit the book 'heaven from pennies' HERE

2 comments:

  1. haunting, gorgeous poem, Ed. So SO sorry to here about Natalie. How are things now? My life's still the haunting bipolar yoyo ride. You?

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  2. Just checked in again Ed. Your stuff looks great. I love that Lennon line "mustard down a dead dog's eye".

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