Pasture (The Second Day of School)
As sun burns dew
daylight seeps, foggy theories
arise, not quite mourning.
The day kisses fields,
with crooked tassels
matching the gold on her head.
It hangs densely
as she cascades over
steep steps in remnants
of exquisite sleep.
I smile in the ache of being
drunk on Daddy’s words, air
pending thunderstorm,
while the barometer descends.
In selfish delight we
watch our babies grow older and wiser.
Contemplate and atone,
repent, as if sin ever goes away,
for the perished being
our love coveted.
Staring out the window, worlds
apart from his endless touch,
watching leaves fall in orgiastic
frenzy to study the sock
flapping in the breeze.
Her hands cradle the
curvature of me as I consider
the architecture of branches
against the morning’s hoarfrost.
He leaves me squinting into a blurry wood
where the sycamore, ash and I
await illumination.
by Beth Stolar Kehayes
from Autumn Sky Poetry Number 5, March 2007
Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim
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