drew on grass

A racing heart and racing feet
thrumming over grass
asleep in yoga class.

Voices in the dark. Voices in
my head. The perfume of lilac and
a little hand that presses against my face
as if urging me
wake, wake, wake!

A dreidel spinning
wake, wake, wake!

a curtain with light streaming through

I felt this then. I still
feel this now. I still
see their shadows
bobbing on the sidewalk
against the evening light. Hold back
the curtain, hold back
the window to this thing that is like
memory
but is anything but. Memory’s
opposite, memory’s
nemesis, my
weakness and my strength, this
secret hope, this tenuous
thing, these
visions only I can know.

(It’s a sunny day
when he disappears
and a cold morning
when he returns
to our doorstep
the prodigal son
and asks your blessing
for a woman.)

lilacs against a blue sky

She’s got flowers in her hair
this little child who
presses through the lilacs
and sits upon your knee and
comes to me late one night
with mascara running down her face

in
lines

like you see in the movies
sometimes.

a child standing in tall grass turned away from the camera

Do you know what I see? Do you know
what I feel? I feel the grass of the future
beneath my feet, their little hands
in my hands, beating footfalls and
beating hearts. Falling asleep
on the veranda of our dreams
with the stars above us. Tell me
do you feel it too?

stars in the night sky

There is a dog
I see in my minds eye. As if
transcending the boundary between
time and space
he romps through the grass at
the edge of the future and
the sunlight is gold in his fur
like something
I could touch.

a dog running over grass

If you enjoyed this poem, read more poetry!

All poetry is housed in The Poetry Deck archives.

Check out “The Mapmaker’s Daughter,” which shares some imagery with this poem.

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