a conspicuous hilltop
my pink shorts, an inky pen,
a list of old friends to call.
a sunny saturday afternoon,
and a sheath of prayers
for my jaded heart from my
jaded heart. spinning tops.
peacock feathers, a book from
a high school boyfriend, and an
unexpected postcard from
an old crush.
my mexican blanket and the
mosquitoes of may.
vanilla coffee.
the first taste of summer.
it has begun, smoking
cigarettes on the cliff’s edge and
it’s been so long i don’t remember
which end to put to my lips. you
light it for me and loan me a coat.
the wind that blows up from the
midnight valley is warm
and smells of honeysuckle,
the starts dark and glowing like
pencil shavings.
oh my sweet carolina,
welcome to the velvet times,
the ferns and bees,
the driving with the windows
down, the molasses months and lemonade,
the sugared times,
the candied hours,
crisp and spicy sweet.
welcome to graceland,
welcome to the battlefield,
welcome to the age of innocence,
and the shedding of guilt.
welcome to the afternoons of
keeping secrets and the evenings
of sharing them.
the mystery of bruises, the
reinvention of the balcony
and its bars, the smokey blue view.
come down to the riverside,
and welcome it yourself:
set down your sword and eat
of the honey tree.
the bees are baring their teeth
and drawing nearer
only to survey and then
return home.
walking through the cemetery,
speaking to the tombstones,
this great cloud of witnesses:
the ground thrums with their
heartbeats. a great cloud
of birthdays.
