Take the Day and Sculpt Long-Stemmed, Iron Roses into Apology
Do not let his anchored body bend,
let it rise from the wrought iron
she turns through the night,
let her tiny, grief-stricken hands take the stirring past
and twist it until metal flowers bloom,
Take the day and sculpt long-stemmed, iron roses into apology.
Do not let her fingers shape the cold bitter months,
her hands will balloon into an unlit soul breastfeeding the dark,
and when she opens her mouth, two worlds will breakthrough,
one holding a metal bullet, the other a blood-red sunset.
© 2023 Diane Wilbon Parks
Diane Wilbon Parks is an accomplished poet, an award-winning visual artist, author, and literary advocate. She was brought in as an Expert Consultant to the National Trust for Historic Preservation on a National Endowment for the Arts Grant. Diane is a USAF Veteran, Sr. IT Program Manager, and resides in Maryland.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
Oh, Diane, just gorgeous! Those last two lines—oof—stunning.
what a powerful vulnerable poem. Like silk and steel braided to language.