Broken Sun Dials

Patterns scattered like Pangaea

broken like grammar across the Earth

we’re lucky we can share any thing at all

even in engineering or poetry

we’ve failed to build a bridge across the Atlantic

while our expression of love is wider than our vocabulary

even this feeling though fleeting could grow

into something so meaningful I would never know

so I go through life thinking I was drinking water down

while water was wine and all opposites rhyme

and I’m drunk on time

sucking on a lime and only euphemism is understood

and not even the shadows could tell time

while looking at old photos

I see new signs

how we are kissing good bye

how you hold me

a couple feet away

your smile meanders south

more of a frown

than mouthing

I love you

though I see how I hug you

I am trying to be one with you

though you pull your hips back toward you

and I’m making love to the sky

though I swear I felt you there

four years from here

I remember this tenth of a second intimately

that afternoon we fought about hanging underwear

outside on your clothesline

of course we weren’t fighting over clothes hangers

when we pretended we were

then fast forward two hours later

and there we are being photographed by a stranger

and here tonight four years later

I take a sip of my Italian wine

and think of you in Florence

home of the Renaissance

and toast our memory

wherever it may be.


10 thoughts on “Broken Sun Dials

    1. cottonbombs Post author

      I just checked out the Spring Showcase and I was greatly thrilled. Your work is wonderful! Miles to Go… it’s a bit small, so, I have to ask, did you paint or photograph that? It’s wonderful! I hope my readers take the time to mosey over to the link left by the last comment.

      1. Kvenna Ráð

        Thank you. I have gone for a ‘clean’ look (as I always do! 🙂 ) in order to emphasise the words. I have actively looked for writers of haiku and short, immediate poetry who rise above the ordinary – some of them write fairly straightforward flowers/moon/bamboo haiku, others write ‘out there’, but that doesn’t matter. I started the e-zine because of s piece of ignorance I had been made to suffer at the hands of an ‘editor’ of an e-zine about ‘haiku’ (the quote marks here are deliberate) who actually didn’t have the first idea about what the form was all about, but was simply The Great I Am. Marie Taylor’s artwork has been part of it from the beginning.

      2. cottonbombs Post author

        Well, I like your style. You shoot from the hip, though you fire magic bullets. Have you ever read J.D. Salinger’s Seymour An Introduction? His description of haiku is the closest to a template I have run across.

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