The Innisfree Poetry Journal
by Grace Cavalieri
A Ghazal of Geese
I knew a woman who drove across country, and wrote down every meal
she ate three times a day to send to me. I've never felt so loved.
My husband produced divorce papers, and then he held me in his arms,
I knew he was preparing me for widowhood. I've never felt so sad.
Although I hadn't noticed the number on the door, I entered the right flat,
they were singing and dancing as if I'd never left. I've never felt so alone.
The old man said he learned to play songs on a guitar by listening to the radio,
then he sang to me "My Kleating Heart." I've never felt so touched.
The sun spread out its ghazal of geese across the horizon flying without
rhyming, yet spelling out A Ghazal of Grace. I've never felt so happy.
Everything Is Smaller Than The Truth
Knowing the worst,
I still try to learn the way of sleep
while the night pressing down on me
holds its basket of dreams
out of reach. I have
taken loss into account, yet
the border of my skin grows thin
with the white of sheet and the
slivers of light under the door
tying my wish to the moon.
It does no good,
the canopy of thought is darker
is stronger than
prayer keeping time to the beat of my heart.
Now it is dawn. What language is this
with its different group of birds
telling me the day, with its terrible truth,
is going on before me.
Lost Poem: A Cento
beside me in the garden
the white chocolate jar full of petals
and by the weak wash of crimson
or any color
that no one any longer wants to see
out of my mind the golden ointment rained
and floating above me stars as violent
down from another planet that have settled to mend
I do not think they will sing to me
and reap some happy
rewards. But look at the birds.
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