Banished Bastards
This is where trees wrap
shadows about my shoulders,
cool, uncorrupt.
Breezes beckon, tell me time
is well. White Dahlias, Orange Lillies,
gregarious pink Geraniums
plant lush kisses, lux-filled
on my face, available virtuous lovers,
this season’s trustworthy trailblazers.
A weed remains I refuse to pluck,
rather cultivate, patience sown;
it now blooms, my corner garden ornament.
Sunlight laps along this good day broken
wide open splashing quotidian blue sky beauty,
quixotic Byzantine bastards banished
from my verdant portal,
vociferous vitriolic vituperations erased.
I touch stars, crystal prism tea lights hang
from my black iron railing, glass guards standing agleam.
Welcome new wind, weathered, seasoned. Please sit down
while I sink soft roots, expectant and deep within
this soil, my brilliant bucolic burst.
* Author of the novel When the Ugly Comes, Carmen Eichman
is an Assistant Professor of English and author of three poetry
collections, living in North Carolina. Eichman’s poetry has appeared in A
Little Poetry, All Things Girl, The Argotist Online, Subtle Tea,
Invisible Ink, The Dan River Review, Borderline, Thick with Conviction and Contemporary American Voices to name a few. She is currently at work on her fourth novel and fourth collection of poetry.
