Johanna

Black wings, stretched taut
eyes blazing fire, wounded shoulder
old hawk

Tender, tentative tendrils long body
little purple orange wildflower
so lost

Sad pepper tree, tall pepper tree
Leaves like webbed fingers and tiny red fruit
The small burning gift in your pocket
sky a dusty, dusty blue

Milkweed white
Splash of yellow, cream
And honey, smooth and calm

Seaweed tongue touches blossom lips
Holds between them gummy peach ring of candy
Sprinkled with sugar, bought on a whim
Just the one

Scottish moorland
Rambling hills and lavender sky
Cold stone walls, dust of years
Taste the chalky and the old
The jagged creamy crescent moon

Two palms face up, your basin, man-made and narrow
surrounded by trees and boots, little flowers and grass
the earth took you back, she now cradles you like a river

standing tall and ruffled, hands like clam shells
lips pursed white, eyes fill of sand
tucked gently into my bookshelf
Fingers intertwined

Tea shop, the room is filled with delicate beauty
Up a narrow flight of stairs,
wooden banister rough on soft hands
the tarnished porcelain door handle to a room
marked 'employees only'

Faded blue ribbon, the young girl wearing you with
Her shoes kicked off and toes
Dipped into clean cold ocean water
Pads rested on smooth pebbles
She would argue your importance over her pretty brocade dress
Her petticoats, tangled blonde hair