Two women, confluence
Of unplanned red, hungry,
Eat the same veggie wrap,

Laugh garlic in pedicabs
Along ribbons of sidewalk
Where night has eaten

Half the moon and
Skyscrapers break the rest
Into four shining cloves.

Red whirling women remind
Whole rooms of their feet.
Dancing men confess

In practiced accents, stolen
Beat, they even taste
The garlic in the air.


2 Responses to “Confluence”

  1. eduardo says:

    Y’know, this reminds me bunches of a very recent (today!) poem from Sister St Rosemerry of Wahtola-Trommer…. (Knowing, now, you’re the other half, I like her poem even moreso.)

    “Laugh garlic…and/Skyscrapers break the rest/Into four shining cloves.” Brilliant imagery, the moon’s quad-reflection being referred to as, cloves. Is its proximity to “garlic” (twice, nonetheless) intentional, or an unexpected niftiness? (I’m thinking you’re being especially crafty.)

    Whirling women, dancing confessional men (Love the “practiced accents” of their confessions, btw.), two women, the same veggie wrap… “Miracles appear in the strangest of places/Fancy meeting you here/…” -Willie Nelson

    • wordweed says:

      Yep. After our night out dancing we both sat down to write a poem before bed, then we read aloud what we came up with. We are hardly surprised anymore when we latch on to similar imagery.

      Garlic and the moon: yes, very intentional. 🙂

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