to cull the the phrases of a quatrain out of night air.
She springs to life as you close the door behind
departing loved ones, the best in you
following them out into the dry fizz of eternity.
Imagine that she tells you how the shape
of your eyebrows fastens to her, how hair
curling behind the ridges of your ears lights up
her midnight spine, leaves her lowing
in pastures of green stem brokenness,
her gown a storm of light, desire a purple stain on her
long after you and she have parted.
[ published in Roses in the Sand, Your Hand, Foothills, 2006. ]
T.G. writes poetry, nonfiction, and letters. She has received prizes in the CNY National Penwomen’s poetry contest, Abacus and Rose poetry contest (Mus. of Sci. & Tech., Syr.NY), Rebecca Eddy poetry contest, and others. Her poems have appeared in Kalliope, Just Us (Toronto), Comstock Review, Peregrine, Co-evolution, Illya’s Honey, Lake Affect, and others. She has two books of poetry published by Foothills, Fumbling for the Flesh of Song and Roses in the Sand, Your Hand.