YET and YOU from James Goertel’s bi-weekly poetry feature, Under The Same Moon, look back to a time before and anticipate another to come.
Everything is young again,
You and I not yet born,
Decades away from a marriage bed;
My father’s memory still to fade,
Its perfume hovering over a river
Not yet making its way to a dead sea.
I do not know as yet
We cannot keep it from seven oceans,
From eventual evaporation;
The two of us yet to smile
At one another across a room,
To bury him beneath an ancient riverbed.
I am counting greening blades of grass
In anticipation of another nascent spring romance
Noting the porcelain of your winter skin
Lambent in sunlight returned from a southern sky
Numbering the wane of days remaining
Between this morning and another summer apart