Tonight's Poet Corner: Aquamarine Dreams
Aquamarine Dreams
by Belinda Roddie
March was kind to me, the winds
whispering stories to me as I walked
with a pocket full of pebbles. It gave me
sheen for those stones, and they became
the blue beauties that we see now.
Blue and silver modesty does wonders
on a slim finger. It is a fashion. It is a
symbol. A blessing. A promise.
You told me I could never have the ring back.
That it was yours now, and I was happy,
more than happy, to let you keep it. March
was kind to me, and May still kinder, the evening
warmth settling into my nervous bones as I asked
the question, and you gave me the answer I had
always desired. And my dreams, like
the rocks crumbling in my jeans,
crystallized. And
brightened. And became aquamarines.
by Belinda Roddie
March was kind to me, the winds
whispering stories to me as I walked
with a pocket full of pebbles. It gave me
sheen for those stones, and they became
the blue beauties that we see now.
Blue and silver modesty does wonders
on a slim finger. It is a fashion. It is a
symbol. A blessing. A promise.
You told me I could never have the ring back.
That it was yours now, and I was happy,
more than happy, to let you keep it. March
was kind to me, and May still kinder, the evening
warmth settling into my nervous bones as I asked
the question, and you gave me the answer I had
always desired. And my dreams, like
the rocks crumbling in my jeans,
crystallized. And
brightened. And became aquamarines.
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