Blue Edge

I see you walking on the pavement
a fragrant spell rekindles your voice
in the scent-laden past.

Here all things are gone, yet present,
echo of molten memory -- the laughter
and the adolescence.

The windows and doors are broken,
all things are not reframed, love
thrown aside in this space.

little burr of the feathers, the wind
blows from the last mountain,
an eon of silence.

the beautiful feet, the perfect legs
but the shoulders bend forward,
as if the body will not answer.

You carry the groove, unhealed
water plunges but cannot wash
the evening’s blue edge.