Eclipse: A Meditation
April 2024
even through this shape-shifting spring–
cloudy, bright, mild, full of storms, blooms–could I
look once clearly at us and
in the shortest interval
perceive all bodies, our bodies, as one,
shadows dancing in deep tango with the light,
even then, might I come back gone blind to it?
About the Creator
Mark Francis
Published translator of verse and original writer of haiku, senryu, lyric, occasional and genre poetry and speculative fiction.
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress3 days ago in Poets
Comments (2)
"shadows dancing in deep tango with the light" - beautifully written. Well done!
Great job congratulations 🎉🎉🎉