- Non-Erotic Poetry
- About Dogwoods
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Click herededicated to smithpeter
One o'clock
twice this night. Asleep again,
awake, your name soft
in murmur. Then you are here —
my dogwood, too many dogwoods.
Yours, bitter-growth, beneath rays
of sadness, watered with why
him, my need to bend.
You were ashes when they became
sudden, without blooms. At one, I see you
on branches, full bloom, rising from white.
Those eyes.
Our roots deep, desires
branching away from loving petals.
Your eyes flower over
broken limbs.
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copyright d. dixon
5.27.04
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- COMMENTS
lorencinoover 15 years agoThere is beauty in the tension between a sad longing and the fullness of the life longed for, between those gifts from another human being that feel eternally entwined with our being even as that human has faded into the silence of oblivion.
