Lauren Goodwin Slaughter

         I wore my pretty blue choir

skirt as I was told to

         look past the accident

to find my double glass

         shape of flute within the frond

light gladiolas flap glass

         so to be polite, to capture

shyness back (most mornings it works…

Why so much stone here?

How far did we ride our habits

& with what weight of stubbornness?

At least our children shone & grew

to be tall doctors (not rock stars)…

Forces sky down

like a French press

over the boil. Constant cloud

covers thunder—lightning

but no rain—a tease without

the reprieve of a drop—

lonely as the kiss you want

to, but don't need.

Question: should I slip

on my slip and rush this

flight or wait full blushed

for the warning…

Say the black road

is a bleached crest raveling

the one distance

meant for you (all of us).