Romantic
Deep in the woods today, the breeze is creaseless
as a baby’s hands, the sky the blue
of newborn irises. Cells’ births are ceaseless
as their deaths: no paradox if true.
The dog and you make three. That unseen other?
Tension. Love. A daemon, in the olden
times. That crossroads pine, your shadow brother,
whispers while the sunset burns him golden.
Three crows caw. Your first dog, dead now, barked
at every one she saw. They swoop, black-bright,
then soar. Fanned myths and omens roil, blue-sparked,
then flash—four parents’ graves, your wedding night.
Strong fancy is a taker. And a giver.
Nature’s left you crying by the river.
Deep in the woods today, the breeze is creaseless
as a baby’s hands, the sky the blue
of newborn irises. Cells’ births are ceaseless
as their deaths: no paradox if true.
The dog and you make three. That unseen other?
Tension. Love. A daemon, in the olden
times. That crossroads pine, your shadow brother,
whispers while the sunset burns him golden.
Three crows caw. Your first dog, dead now, barked
at every one she saw. They swoop, black-bright,
then soar. Fanned myths and omens roil, blue-sparked,
then flash—four parents’ graves, your wedding night.
Strong fancy is a taker. And a giver.
Nature’s left you crying by the river.
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review https://thebigwindowsreview.com/ at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His latest chapbooks are Zimmerman on Zimmerman: Sonnets for Bob Dylan and Songs We Darkly Know, both available on Amazon. Tom's website: https://thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com/