splitting green wides on the asphalt
woke fast before curfew &
mourning poured in
heavy
held the whole sky in my cup
drinking the smoke & caching the light
you used to sneak in thru the door
sliding
into the darkness— fresh from the cemetery
& opening the blinds
today
i asked the birds if your hair still grew
wrapping around your neck like
a tower

leaning & if you still swam thru watercolors

you were pink and gray always against the current
it’s true that time
moves
fast & slow but i wish i could go back to fix the parts that aren’t even there
anymore & Rapunzel will you answer if your brain is still
a staircase

S

P

I

R

A

L

ing???

could we meet where you are?
dancing
under dreidels
long before the Chinese lanterns dim
& more glass explodes
leaking tea & chocolate
in your graveyard kitchen where
i’ll be waiting
;
it’s been fourteen years
since the painting & i still wear blue
with my laughlines
by the earth,
covering my ears.

[Aug 2020]
For Rapunzel

A. Pikovsky

 

A. Pikovsky is a soviet-jewish poet living in Philadelphia.

© 2021