The Poem as a Love Poem
Charlene Langfur And if the poem can be a love poem, in what form does it begin and how does it open up? I always think of the sunflowers and the roses in the garden in this regard, how they open up at night in the coolness under the cover of the moon so that by morning the flowers have completely transformed themselves, the small pink buds washed over with dew and the sunflower petals wildly agog with a yellow color from out of nowhere. It is always a surprise and always seems unexplainable, the bursting with life at the start of any day at all. They must be how love opens up inside us, the way it develops of its own even when we are not aware of it I’ve tried to imitate the same today, spread my arms open wide into the blue sky, pressing my fingers along the edges of my blue shirt, holding on, who could know the first kiss will last longer than expected, years ago, I can still remember how I sat in the car long after it was over as if we had opened up too, knew what was there between us all along. How when we let it, it all breaks fast, the poem, the sky, the kiss |
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About the Author: Charlene Langfur is an organic gardener, a rescued dog advocate, a Syracuse University Graduate Writing Fellow and her writing has most currently appeared in POETRY EAST and WEBER--THE CONTEMPORARY WEST (2016 and 2018). Her home is in the southern Californian desert.