melissaahowells
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the gunshot wound
that was your heart in its poultice of cayenne pepper and that lolli-pop of cherry fentanyl couldn't make your deepest wound mend better the waders to your water-logged love hang on the drooping clothesline see how they wind-walk and skip away dancing in the blowing wind as it gathers his footsteps fluttering away higher and higher He was your fisherman a fisher of hearts with a hook to snag you and give you the finest pleasures he used no ordinary fly wheel but the spinning kind light-weight an expert troller in your wilder notions the oceans and the rivers oh the things you thought you did the things we all do so that we may breathe and love and feel the love of others my efforts didn't make a creel didn't make a net didn't make a fishing lodge home for my lover love can be a bullet wound love can be a far-off echo love can be distant as a man out on the river or the ocean if love doesn't become a phantom and abandon me would I wear my widow's weeds though we were never wed and when he married himself to Poseiden's Daughter will he come back to me dead in his knitted knotted gown that telling Irish sweater and not ever quite returned will his ghost-lips speak and sing to me to simply haunt me? Oh how the Salton Sea is the whole wide world the Temptress of all fishermen yet is the truest fisher of all its wayward sons and daughters. **************************************************** LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 2/21/2022 7:37 DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD (INDEED) Vote for this poem |
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