Orphan Poetry or Paradise Lost: VIII. Enchanted Rock / The Ides of March

Enchanted Rock / The Ides of March

I will remember the branches and the light
filtering through the locust grove.
You will remember the emerald brilliance
of the grass.
We will remember together the unyielding line of granite
that still gives way over time:

the fine fullness of the moonlight across our whiteness
the vermilion flash of the cardinal
Cool air rolling lightly over and under everything like water
filling our mouths with flower petals
tasting of honey olive oil fresh bread

The sacrament of breath.

By bonniemcclellan

Mother, poet, american ex-pat from Texas living in Northern Italy.

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