Vicki Hudspith The 2River View, 7.1 (Fall 2002)

Forgiving The Desert

If only I could spend an afternoon
With summer in my lungs
If only I could rebuild my city
Under a canopy of trees

Instead of listening to horns of war
Bagpipes blowing for the fallen
Autumn has seen days beautiful as ball gowns
Hang in shreds

If only I could admit
That the idea of cranberry sauce
Fills me with fear and weakness
Perhaps I could hold the face of worry

While you sleep
Behind the curtain of your eyes
In a heap of bountiful isolation
Which is gone when you look at me

If only the russet autumn
Could point
With the abundant lips
And fingers of seasons

I am no longer able
To speak my native language
Use only the barbarous invectives
Of polite society

Which reduce my heart
Shrunken upon
The seed of love
Oh if I could open the sky

The desert sand would fly
We would eat again
Behind sighs and it would be so simple
To know you

Weapons thrown down
Pushing back dry heat
Forgiving the desert for a lack of trees
But I live among the lace remains of metal and glass

Carry particles of emptied air
Every cloudy day into the sun
If only
I were no longer petty

I could heal the world and cure myself
Shaking harshness from the clouds
If only rocks of sugar
Could sweeten the bitter sea

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