Write Like a Girl
Published in

Write Like a Girl

A Sinner’s Peace

A poem

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

this scorching summer burns away a fragile peace

a palm tree’s crown frozen in its mitosis

the tiger lilies sag under shriveled roots

yet there is sanctity in the dragons and fairies

in the stars above spiral roofs

still the stars remain constricted by smoke

glimmer dimmed to a ghost

but every sentence dances on one ivory key

notes build adagios

assemble haunting concertos

an echo nor sage nor rosemary

breath too pure for accidental sinners

instead savor the angels climbing Orion’s tendrils

filter their bliss, scour their dismay

letters resurrect a shaded peace

when speech lies in an unknown void

I watch the beauty for sale

and beg the yellow blooms to whisper

whisper this tale

of rare suspension

strung along an uncertain trapeze

the cracks in this peace are too soon to bear

too late to salvage

anything but sand-glass and grit

this valley’s heat sprouts wedges in a hesitant peace

these words form silver bars

lock pain and deception into a trellised cage

the ivy silences the latent tune

the broadcast of metaphors evaporated

these futile line breaks tossed aside

to toe these faultlines, I cross the mountains and the seas

abandon verse on the highway, every tire deflated

run my fingers over boulder-black scrawls

wince at the coarseness of the spaces

I dread the rising mercury

for my peace will shatter

at one more surge

this castle of words too precarious to stand

this cloud dance hops between epiphany and escape

every burn turn my castle far from the hearth

for every truth burns too bright to bear

the golden chalice is impervious to thorns

not I

not I — scarred at every touch

pirouette around the scales in gabled windows

to reside in yellowed grass

not I — brush layered wounds under foundation

hide every missed cue, lost whisper

fed to the ghosts of my grandfathers

this peace already broken

soon to collapse under this heat

not only is this peace too weak

but my spirit flags midstride

a reservoir exhausted by spring

a current galloping in circles

I climb back in to this peace shattered beyond repair

for the dappled interference enchants the anxious sea

my cage is now an aviary

every bird chants a rainbow of tales

revives an infinite tower of image

there is no other cage I would have

no key worth dividing my stanzas

with the flooding of the sand, the time has come

to leap from a futile peace

into a wildfire of galaxies

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