Original Poetry: from “Magritte’s Panels”

A graded cement path embedded
      with river pebbles
ascends to the threshold
      of a charred pit, a cavity
like December, an emptied swimming pool.

Nobody was hurt last night.

Something smolders.
      Skeletal studs transgress
the retaining wall wet with the elements.
      Drizzled mist obscuring
ravines, then neighbors.

A young woman came home to marry.

Affixed to the metal banister
      a seared veil
(dripping, rustling)
      blossoms like the ohia lehua
on the scorched slopes of Mauna Loa.

She’ll borrow more than planned.
 
 
 
 
 
[This is an excerpt from “Magritte’s Panels”. Check out other original poems here.]

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