Emily as Sea Wind
Hips called to be spun outby the beautiful, devastating
language of the salted water,
my woman doesn’t need
a ship to stand broad-chested
to the whip, the circle
& movement of restored light,that always finds the land
irresistible to a proper teasing.
Emily as Spurn of the Root
The yellow grassnever makes it
to the truck, never
roars past the root,the spread wide
reflection of a small
thing staying smallabove the black dirt.
Emily, the bare hand
of my summer days,she is run-off, yellow
grass, she is working
in the nutrient toawaken the spread
to lift the discovery
of what I missedbefore I found
myself ankle deep,
searching for it.Flush to my lips,
she flies like a flower
intent on imprint,a patient dandelion,
held on to with caution.
Emily as a Lake, a Lilac
Maybe you thought, the shoreof beauty was somehow less
beautiful? Eager to be shoulder
& splash, Emily is the lake& the purple lilac, she is beauty
& almost beauty, she is what
shakes the walls of all beauty& collects its to rattle heat
down from the jealous, sky gods.
Darren C. Demaree is living in Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children. He is the author of "As We Refer To Our Bodies" (2013) and "Not For Art Nor Prayer" (2014), both collections are to be published by 8th House Publishing House. He is also the recipient of two Pushcart Prize nominations.
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