poet – Page 18 – Thistle Thoughts

Fuchsia: A Poem

what pain looks like
but only to those
who allow themselves to feel it

Whispering birds,
frail and sunken-eyed

What about
when the heart knocks back?

queen bee venom
courses through
my tiny veins

desert sun assaults us
in undulating flares

‘Caring makes me feel un-American,
and honey, there’s something wrong with that…’

Yes, there are dark corners
to cling to

There’s a way back to blue
& to you, but we couldn’t
remind you in time