Monday, April 1, 2013

New Canaan Morning

A sunrise of pink lips
the lavender line
between love and lover
a wry smile
opening to forever.
A red opened bloom
new from the hibiscus
I drove here last night
in driving Easter rain,
the last thing to move
after I burned all the boxes
instead of the innocent house
and the only thing living they say.
She spread her leaves out
the open car window
and didn't complain
she was far too large really
for my car
but along the way she asked me to sing
"The Girl in the Other Room,"
the one that explains it all
while never once losing its cool.
This morning, my eagle's nest
pimped with my moments
glistens in infinite quiet
till I walk and it responds
with how large I am,
it's like a Studebaker long dormant
in a millionaire's garage
has been tuned up at last
as if time hadn't passed
(as indeed it hasn't).
At last I can live like a human being
crooked walls and golden-age appliances
notwithstanding.

2 comments:

the walking man said...

Starting a new phase of joy and sadness, life in perpetual motion.

Jack said...

"she was far too large really
for my car"

"This morning, my eagle's nest
pimped with my moments
glistens in infinite quiet
till I walk and it responds
with how large I am"

There are no suitable containers for certain auras and moments. Or maybe a mismatch is the perfect frame for a memory. I'm going back and forth.