Thursday, July 24, 2008

272. Scheherazade

by Susan Elbe
from Eden in the Rearview Mirror (Word Press)

Another night washes up at my feet
and all down the block lightning
bugs drizzle their glow juice.
In tight twos, couples
stroll the vein-blue summer light.

In cafes, undiluted secrets
shared between old friends
over sweets and bitter tea.
In the alleys, damaged men
ration cigarettes and loneliness,

the whole street, an ark
of stories asking Why?
and Why not? me, as mutable
as Chinese whispers or
shorelines remade by water.

And mine too, a story with no wedding,
no milky-mouthed children,
a few hours of abandon in warm beds,
then abandonment.
Loss and lesson, all it seems I have.

A sweet-onion moon, its light
thin as tears, silvers the trees.
How did I get this far
thinking goodness would save me?
Once upon a time is what saves us.

When morning rises up like cream,
its light mimics evening,
as muted, blue. I'm still here,
but one crow on a rooftop
squanders his one and only tale.

If someone knows how to insert space before a line using HTML, would you please tell me so that I can set poems correctly?


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