Two Bitter Little Poems About Love

1.
    I tried to write fire,
    because love is a flame.
    But fire is just fire—

    a brief, bright heat
    and some coals,
    then just ashes.

    And it seems no one wants
    to be given ashes
    as her own special poem.

2.
    Emotions litter the grass
    like guts of birds
    torn apart by a cat.

    A few feathers, some
    odd bits of fluff
    tumbled in the wind

    are all that’s left
    of our nervous, trembling creature.
    It once flew, you know.