By Christina M. Rau
Lake At Tanglewood
Humid after August thunder,
the swans venture into the murk,
slow, no wake in the water, almost
as if the banks pull them,
Beyond the gates and signs:
No Parking No Swimming Don’t Jump
within the buzz of busy building and
eating and breathing and creeping
and being, warm wind, soft blades,
sunflower asana vibrating in thick air—
Vibration r i p p l e s the surface
Swans pause Move on
In the dark quiet we love each other
we love so hard as pavement rips through
glass, water through grass.
The meadow. The dusty morning wild flowers.
A slow motion run towards the middle where
blankets lie in wait. A magazine advertisement
One girl’s lost charm, her bracelet on her wrist.
A name in the dark of a clock.
Glow. Alarm. Hope.
They used to hold hands.
Christina M. Rau is the author of the poetry chapbooks WakeBreatheMove (Finishing Line Press, 2015) and For The Girls, I (Dancing Girl Press, 2014). Founder of Poets In Nassau, a reading circuit on Long Island, NY, her poetry has appeared on gallery walls in The Ekphrastic Poster Show, on car magnets for The Living Poetry Project, and most recently in the journals The Main Street Rag and Parenthetical. In her non-writing life, she practices yoga occasionally and line dances on other occasions. Find her links on A Life of We.
Cover illustration My Mother’s Garden by Christine Stoddard. Click this thumbnail to see larger version.
Flower photo by David Nilsen.