avadevenitch

The season's vulnerability
Giving in 
In innocent ways

Peeling skin
Reveals red ribbons
Networks of cross stitches
Bleeding, scabbing over
Begin again

This snow soaks it in
And round plums ripened

I am falling bent
Weight on bark makes me cascade
Ticking still in vain
 

Oh, my no peanut butter during the war, Catholic school grandfather
My orange juice pouring, snarky commenting, desperate patriarch who nods his head without refrain

Caught in the curve of entwined fingers
behind your back
Are where promises
find themselves suffocated

These are what you have for me
You have brought fruit
and you have gathered flowers
whose petals vow your devotion

When I woke that day, I remembered having seen an angel in my dreams. It came to me and it hung from grand wings. I remembered the shadow the wings displayed on my bedroom wall and the strange face in front of me illuminated by my nightlight.