Oasis Is Forgiving This

Painting by Daniela Isache


Oasis is Forgiving This

The more you dig
through ashen years,
more your hair
turns shades to match--
the bigger the buried
past becomes.
This inky mirror
flashes things.
And you stare straight
in the bull's eye of a bruise,
shrinking from potential darts.

Across twelve states you hear
your father's voice.
And the sting returns
to haunt this home
the way a piece of soiled
lettuce spoils all
surrounding green.
Your ivory bottom,
its tiny pair of
innocent moons
sifting through words,
looking for snag,
for judgment hitch,
for snapping belts
of childhood.

Every mile ahead of us
will be a camel's desert walk
through pitchforked eyes
and swirling sand.
Oasis is forgiving this:
Rash as red as borscht
on linen tablecloths.
Blue black stripes
smiling like a swastika.

Janet I. Buck

Posted over on Ariga