July
Deidre Braley
Every time I do something in this house I wonder, Will this be my last sip of coffee in this spot? Will this be the last time I stoop beside this particular patch of blueberries and pop the fruits in my child’s mouth? I saw an iridescent frog. He did not move, but his heart beat so fast in his throat that I feared he would explode. I looked away. I was worried my gaze was more than he could handle. I dove, again, into Hebrew. I love the old ancient language, feels like the core of the earth, with all of its secrets and solid density. At a small church by the beach I sat down and felt God. They say he doesn’t dwell in temples. I say he dwells everywhere, but that he does like a quiet place with a little dust and beautiful windows. I am working on more poetry. I wonder, of course, what I can add to the dialogue of humanity. There is a conversation, and I wait for a place to break in, to offer something, some little dazzlement of interest. I try to expose my legs to the sun as often as I can. I have this primal urge to gather ultraviolet in my cells, which goes against everything the experts advise. But still. I pull up my skirt and offer my legs to the heavens.
Poems & Paraboles publishes work that illuminates, awakens, or opens a small window toward wonder. Some pieces are quiet. Some are bold. Some carry a moral thread, while others wander into the mysterious and ethereal.
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Deidre, thank you for sharing your poem with us! Your poem brings so much perspective to the season of July, that feels like it's slipping away just as we're trying to fully savor its texture and depth. I especially love the line "there is a conversation, and I wait for a place to break in, to offer something, some little dazzlement of interest."
Deidre’s the best.