errol miller
IN FULL BLOOM
I'm not through
looking for you, Alice
I must leave my buggy and search
thin women for identity
you have come before
to sweeten verbs within my ear
I have not had enough of that
I am through with farming rocks
through with eating bitter peaches
on my wrist a misty photograph
of you who might have been
for a while your pinafore
reminded me of Mama
a flower on the road to town
we have stood together
touching through a screen door
picking up our calling cards for mystery
you carry peppermints in your purse
and sunlight and secrets
there is no turning back from tomorrow
I see you reflected in the mirror
up above your loveliness
folding roadmaps across your stomach
embroidering forsythia portraits
of love on your pillow
