Poetry

Poetry Dose: “Untitled” — by Jo O’Lone-hahn

by

Untitled

 

I am falling in love with a master who

never shows his flaws but the secrecy of his embrace

 

Holding the night in his arms, he dreams of days better to come,

the soft glow has neither guilt or benevolence

but a thrust into a world so

uncanny with delight it is even

foreign to a child, un-maimed by the trees and leaves

that fall on his head and the passing

of time, and the ever-creator,

giving and taking away as he falls

 

back and lets the oceans, his

creations, guide him to his home,

to the glow and do him well.

 

to fathom: the creator, using his creations

only to show a child what

he gives and takes away.

 

he waits in the shadows of the ferns

and watches with two

eyes glowing.

he knows he will find peace

when he reaches home.

some wave of ecstasy will ride over him

as he shows the child the dying trees,

 

he will hold them close and

supervise their growth from his

chair as he sits in the sun, sipping lemonade.

 

he will fall back and laugh.

he will dance with their teenage lovers and sing

them the best new songs on the radio, he will make them

shriek when their heart first feels pain

he will cover their heads with mothballs when they prepare to marry.

 

he will carry them into their homes as

dusk sinks into the shapes of their sagging skin

 

he will be tender and he will tuck them into their beds

he will fall back and

weep with laughter

as they outstretch their fingers

in the dark-lit room to the imperceptible growing light,

invisible to their children.

 

he will hold them close again he will

sing them the best new songs on the radio

until they fall asleep

they will wake with a start and

be touched for a final and first

time by the soft glow, without guilt or benevolence

 

they will love the master and

think of those trees

as they weep they will be shown a glory no candle or afterlife can produce.

 

they will be lowered into the dirt while he throws ashes over the new earth.

he will shed one tear that leaves a red blossom behind

 

he will walk to the ocean toward home.

he will walk beneath the streetlights, weeping, he will

throw his tears to the air and turn all of the lights out.

he will return to the ocean and lay back, he will take us all home

with him, leaving only

some red blossoms in his wake.

I know because I love him.

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