Visitations In Red
-stephanie pope
|
Anytime you become fascinated by some material creation close your eyes, look within and contemplate its Source.
-Paramahansa Yogananda |
i buy myself a sweet & little new & little cute & little fast car
drive home and park it in the empty spot
the one the bridal daughter's waving goodbye smile has left |
i find myself laid bare and smiling
waving back to her long after
her dis is
no longer useful
to my outer appearance
no longer required to bleed outwardly
long after the empty spot fills
with the sporty red
reweaving |
|
& the
haunted blood flows
in psychophysical
dimensions of
nonlocality &
multiplies the red
an other mother
shows up often here
in my strangely
empty days
all the while waving beyond my head |
all the while I'll not escape her strangely empty shape
sweetened candy-apple red
|
i leave alot these days, get in & drive
keep the top down because i like the feel of hardnesses
where the white wind stings my red hair in a slap &
desert heat brands these shoulders
played upon like strings—
lays me often bare as empty spots
all of it darkens & engenders
twanging stigmata
strangely
empty of shape
another mother ripens it an art
from this wedding ringed with what my loving her has lost
to this bridal staining in the beautiful reds not without cost
i am given back to me okay in the way
she returns her bleeding through the empty shape
hugging the fetal me curved to the seat in losing
when huddled & pressed down, shall accelerate in
making anyway the centripetal self of centrifugal forge
the lady visits upon me here in red
everything i'm living now, around the bend & up ahead |
