Friday, June 10, 2011


They are not there. Wherever you find them,
they will not stay. Let them go, but keep
their mark. Quicker than a farewell kiss,
they run ahead of you and hope to throw
you another one from the shadowy depths
of yearning, of longing, of needing really.
With sunrise, does not the claw-like
shadow of the primrose stigma recede?
It is the yellow blossom turns the path
into a sparkling trail that will not be there
when darkness shrouds the valley. Touch
and go. They will not be there, these
songs you scarcely hear from this distance.
And your vesper question? What lessons on
grasping and letting go do these things
teach you? You cannot hold them down.
But they will haunt you until you learn
how to summon them when you need
memories to touch your face caressingly.
—Albert B. Casuga

Prompts: “Mirage” by Luisa A. Igloria, Via Negativa, 06-09-11 and “Vespertine”, Via Negativa, 06-08-11 as reponses to The Morning Porch posts of Dave Bonta.

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