Even When The World Is Erratic

       Phibby Venable
Even when the world is erratic
in a wonderful way
and the wind a cool hand
brushing back my hair
some memory of you harbors
in the compass of my eyes
and I am lost with heaviness
It is only a moment, and never
flinches long, but love,
I enlighten myself with small things
I rub my eyes with the oil
of a stranger's blindness
so that I cannot see
those wretched last days
when all our moments
fell in lost heartbeats
as simple as tattered cloth
unthreading itself
I differ my voice with singing
as bony backed birds
tap time on the ground
With a stranger's eyes
I bridge the wounded gaps
in the road, and plant wildflowers
that serve no purpose
I am not thinking of you now
The stars are spilling
from a black bowl, and a golden circle
surrounds the new moon
Below ground, irises
hump backs of impatience
and thrust upward in the dark
I do not see the lamp
burning its last wick in fire -
a yellow tiger eye flashing
another small goodbye

Phibby Venable,

Phibby Venable lives in Abingdon, Virginia, and has been twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She has five books of poetry, one novel, and a book of short stories available at Amazon. com, and various other bookstores. She is an advocate for women, animal rescue, and community service. Her latest book of poetry, Uncertain Ships, in due for publication in 2016.

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