Glass like Love

 

As though we never could hurt the ones we love,

some irretrievable things remain with us—a mother’s

necklace fallen between the baseboards, a song

sung over and over under the heavy covers of a sleep—

             like breath, a part of us, the way touching

exposes what’s missing, and our hearts can consume

so much, and this, becomes the story’s

                                                    turn—a child

who kisses her father on the forehead because

everything that was his was also hers,

because he asked her to embrace this life,

or at least so she thought, the way he would want her

to one day love—

                          willingly, almost hoping, to ache.

 

 

 

 

                 Published in Oberon Poetry Magazine

 

 

                                                  

                                 

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“Sleepwalker”

silk-screen by Carol Buchman

eMail: David / ©2008 David Crews. All rights reserved.