There are constants
In life like
The sun and
Moon the seasons
Migration and then
There’s us we
Are simply not
We are lucky
Both in life
And love live
Your best life
And love as
Often as you
Can for in
This world we
Are temporary while
The rest is
Magnificently grandly eternal
Spring has once
Again returned here
Trees are popping
April buds like
Crackers at Christmas
And Daffodils Tulips
And early Daisies
Dance in yards
Like robed choir
Singers at Baptist
Sunday church service
Irises and Peonies
Begin to yawn
With short stalks
Of leafy green
Like barren flagpoles
Saul is bashfully
Warm like the
Blushing cheeks of
Teenagers at their
First mixed dance
This is today
Here in Charlotte
I sometimes feel
Like a prairie
Flower in the
Hands of a
Forlorn lover plucking
My petals in
Pursuit of love
As though my
Own beauty is
Forgotten in lieu
Of theirs does
He not see
Me my prettiness
Instead I’m simply
A thing found
Faraway upon which
To bemoan and
After used far
Uglier than when
This first began
When I hear
DeBussy’s Nocturne my
Heart which I
Wear on my
Sleeve bleeds saturating
My arm crimson
As clear tears
Well and roll
Wetting my lips
I miss those
Long lost loves
Like the kite
Caught in headwinds
Snatching it from
My hands taking
It somewhere else
Now a limp
String with nowhere
To fly I
Simply sit and
Imagine its life
In someone else’s
Hands bringing joy
And like a
Child awakening to
An overnight snowfall
The sight of
You makes me
Swoon with adventure
Sleds and snowballs
Mittens and cocoa
Of crackling fires
And smooth whiskey
While I watch
The fire’s fingers
Dance across cheekbones
And light up
The twinkling galaxies
In your eyes
You are my
Own late-night snowfall
Let us play
With gleeful abandon
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 