- Sheryl Luna
Tightened jaw, I did not love.
Flashback of myself jerked about,
legs high above my head, men
laughing, I came to sea drifts,
movement and crashing. I found I am
not so far from God exploding.
Gifting, a friend once said, is why we live.
Seven storks still and white on a gold lake.
My lazy eye glances back to that original
split, myself high above myself.
Whiplashed into forgetting, I didn’t know
hours from minutes. I was hypervigilant for
catastrophes. My head raging then numb.
The early garden bare, and now,
shocked with sudden memory,
I return to changing sky hues,
blooms of lilac bursting along sidewalks.
Lazy in the grass, I free myself of guilt,
imagine musicians in the park, us overcoming
ourselves. My eyes open before stars.
Holy these leaves, these skies.
What is torn opens for the light.
Source: Poetry (April 2014).
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