for Rachel
I have four blankets on my bed:
one is the color of a clear winter sky,
one is the color of the river,
one is the color of the Atlantic ocean
& one is the color of your eyes.
Lying under my four blue blankets
I am warm, too warm, I toss & turn —
not like an airplane in a winter sky,
not like a salmon swimming upstream,
not like a buoy riding out a storm
but like a piece of grit
in a drop of salt water
exiled from the blue of your eyes.
See Ten Simple Songs
Ah. I would be very pleased with such a poem, were I Rachel. As it is, I like it fine!
Thanks! It seemed to go over well. (And yes, I really do have four blue blankets on my bed.)
Four blue blankets on my bed…
That sounds like a lost line from the Black Paternoster…
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,
Bless the bed that I lie on.
Four corners to my bed,
Four angels round my head;
One to watch and one to pray
And two to bear my soul away.
That is a nice resonance! Can’t say I intended it, but I’m glad you heard it and called my attention to it.
Yes. I am. Very. I can’t even begin to express how much.
<3
lovely, sad, hopefully a temporary exile.
Thanks, I hope so too. (But even lovers who live together remain existentially alone.)
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