Two poems (Editor's Work)

The Vow

Mosses. Plush peridot, jeweled with dew. Tears
of a tiny terrain. A bed of smooth soil spread
along the water’s edge. Duckweed. Floating,
suspended, a living lace upon the pond’s surface.
Species. A gallery of masterpieces. Waterbugs
push and pull, balancing between two realms.
A kingfisher’s crest, flashing feathers, alert to my
presence. A blue-grey gift meant for no one and
everyone. Turtles sighing with breaths silent.
Canada geese and mallards muttering. Harmless
musings, the sound familiar and safe. A breeze.
Midafternoon cool taps my arm and drapes itself
over me. A weightless thing to carry, playful and
present and perfect. Cleanse my mind. Clean the
dust off ancient, rusting memory. Compost the
remnants of trickle-down societal greed. My own
inconsequential worries, What are they compared
to the world’s?

peel away, a soft rind rotting, seeds and acid crushed into nothing, then swallowed by the dirt.

For this scarred, sacred place, I keep my lips sealed.

Flavedo Phantom

Your life back then was lemons.
Flesh and pulp and seeds
ground into a laborious, lawless
bitter. Its sour smirk slicing
at your lips while laughing
in a bath of spit and blood
and cheap beer.

Now you stand here, smiling,
finally safe in a sleeve of kindness.
Rindless and unwritten, honey-
sweet sweat glistening. Innocent.
You listening, bearing witness
when you’re the one in need
of witnessing.

Before you, I’d never been seen
for me. Had I?

No, only as a present losing its
excitement, its pinprick potential.
Disappointment as the wrapping
is stripped away.

Only as a fantasy future, flamed
and flawed by passion. An infertile
little peach pit, fearing fruition.
Not fit to fruit.

Only as a summer fig, ripening.
Readying and waiting to be filled
with a sundrenched scent. Faded
shine and shadow.

Now my name is hallowed in your
mouth. Happy haunting the halls
and hideaways in your head. Read
on your screen at night. A beam of
light, flitting and in flight. Tangible
through tangents and twists and
the gist of this is:

I think those lemons kissed you
so you could slip into a stream
and then savor its cool sweetness.
And then turn.
And then kiss.
And then release a tender whisper
for someone else.