With Tea and Lemons

Eclipse (1966)

Helen Sorrells

She has come home to the white room
That locked her dreams in paper roses,
The curtains more fragile
Than her wedding dress.

Torn in half in her morning,
Unhealed on a velvet chair,
She marvels at her wholeness
In the mirror.

Where is her mother who does not come
With tea and lemons
To say love is a fig
And a feather?

She knows where he is, his sorcery spilled
In willing hands,
The bright lust of another's hair
Stitching his eyes closed.

Blind, he is yet beautiful.  There are weeks
Ahead, months, and years, years.
Outside a pigeon wears a prism on his breast;
A horse rears.


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Warren Wedin warren.wedin@csun.edu