Thursday, November 14, 2013

What's True (Poem 226)

What I say now
isn't always true. 
What's true is you, standing 
like some ancient blue and 
silver idol under the full moon. 
What's true is the blanket 
of mist that shrouds the valleys 
and damp fields in amethyst 
silence at dawn. 
What's true is the long, slow sway 
of the mid-day ferry between 
kelp scented sea and crisp clear sky, 
and the first joyous leap when 
those elusive dolphins burst from 
the wave off the bow. 
What's true is the sweet, slightly-musty scent 
of faded elegance and the creak 
of the stairs under our feet. 
No, what I say now 
isn't always true. 
But what I knew then, was.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

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