Love Poem: Waking With the Past
Kristen Rohder Avatar
Written by: Kristen Rohder

Waking With the Past

In bubble thought
I wrote by words
of my round-glassy head
and closed my eyes.
 To my surprise
I saw a vintage
picture—a cover to a book
I’d closed for years.

	To keep my eye
from sprinkling
I let the story unfold
in silent
form
for I fear happy-sad haunting
	from my trunk of tears.
tainted
and smeared.

In retro motion
	a young-old girl
lay content in May...
	Across 
sits he.
	She looks to him
and asks if she were a flower,
what would she be?

		"A rose," said he. "A rose, indeed..."
	His throat pretends to choke
and retreats from verse.
 he flees from words he 
did not mean to spurt.
				With one Rose in thought,
away she runs,
		‘Neathe dandelions flush with green,
Under skies too perfect to change motion.
	clouds so close 
she reaches and carries with her 
nothing
but 	the rose
			He gave her.

Only passion runs deep within a flower so bold,
	only words
I know to speak
are ones which tell me
		why we wilt instead of grow?
Greeted by summer trees,
sounding like trumpets as they dream.
	Wind pulling back her hair
a glance beyond which she sees;
	A truth in love
bound by seeds of faith and passion,
understanding
and need.

side by side
each of the us
remain quiet	as if waiting
for the sun to rise.
			to break free from chains, beneath earth’s skin
		             to spread like butter on the plain before us.
	
Adorned in black sashes and bows,	 
the fair-whether wind utters an untimely tale,
	serenading the drum
cradled in her ear.
	
“Exhale”, I say.

Let recollections of days
since then,
fade away.
			
			
	 As days now drip from the silver faucet, which cleanse my hands, soul and feet,
I cast reflections out to sea.
	From the shore of my bubbled head
the eldest rose, I spy, yet to die;
and
The May I mothered deep inside,
				Flashed brightly, gently and briefly.
					Never-tattered
					   never-worn
					just smaller in size.

Glassy eyes and goblets of wine, I drink to love and reflections of a  man like a month 
left behind.