Dogwood (Two)
       

A heart turned upside down
is empty, a wooden chair
without. Carved intricacies
all aflare, unnoticed there;
a dogwood chair, its lovers
gone under. Who needs a foyer
without a home? Who needs
a pause to remember the boot
one doesn't walk in? A bargain
boast, there for the discovery.
By chance a chance to buy
something that lasts. It won't be
long there. The hills are full
of coupling. The motors go.
The guns go off. The postal
flags ablaze this sudden
summer season. Half a day
already casts its shadow,
a pregnant profile, fireworks
in one day—all the bees, a buzzing.
A flower turns to something.

Tweet
Copyright © 2019 Lorna Dee Cervantes All rights reserved
from Colorado Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission