–Author’s Note: This one needs more work but it’s off to an interesting start.
confederate widow
she reminded him of a confederate widow,
dressed in grief and valor
shaded by southern points demarcated
by spanish moss and inherited lightning. the heat
was too much for him
so he presumed the thought
of museums and dressed himself
in the coattails of curation.
when he bowed in front of her,
threads from his evening jacket split into shards.
“you deserve to be preserved,”
he said and swallowed the syllables whole.
what does it mean to mean every word?
she drafted a response and rebelled
against the union proposed. civility
reigned; he held out his eyes on his fingertips.
she understood this
to be a third act.
the revisions were upheld by genteel direction
but his eyes were on his fingers.
it was difficult to get past the notions of
new starts, carriaged doubt, railways into the leaded past.
she reminded him of a confederate widow.
he countered his own insurgency.
Tidal Waves Don't Beg Forgiveness 