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Posts Tagged ‘lure’

Love After Love

You noticed a floorboard slightly out of place,
under it, you found a poem, a love poem,
you read it and saved it in the piles of things
we become,
that was forty years ago.

Folded and tucked away through decades
drifting from house to house and box to box,

it followed you

people lived, loved, and died as usual.

You lost love.

But you found that poem again,
it had never left,
you read it, gave it new breath, so now,
forty years later you’ve discovered
it was a love poem from a man to
another man,
kept under the floor and under shame,
hidden in confused tragedy
under the weight of the piles
of the things we become
and like blowing on a fire
you sparked love again
long after it was lost,

so a lost wife is not lost,
she loves you in a different way now,
her breath reaches you in delicate things
like the way a feather flutters down from the sky
or a snowflake dances to touch and
melt on the tip of your ear.

To love in whispers from re-read paper,
whispers from the warming sky full
of all of your breath and mine and hers and ours and theirs.

A poem and love, decades ago,
lured you in,
shifted shapes
to show you
there is love
after love.

 

Kyle McHale        2016

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Orange Moon

Moon you are orange tonight,
For stars, clouds, my delight?
Moon you seem so in tune
And yet you are not white

Like when we stayed up all
Those times during the fall
And shared lovers secrets
In white chill I recall,

I gave you great thought for thought.
You rarely lit my way. I rot
When you need a peaceful word,
From my counsel you shall not.

Now sickly, faintly pale,
No orange men do prevail,
You stay so ugly orange
And lose your guided trail.

No moon of mine a bore,
For sailors on a shore,
To see almost red for
Good bait? Good hook? No lure.

May the sun cut you up-
The sphere to burn you up-
Who needs safe orbit now?
You have been killed enough.

If ever white again,
Do not call me my friend,
Because I want no more,
Of whiteness pure and lure.

Kyle McHale      2004

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