Love
All posts tagged Love
Medusa Contemplates The Moon (Revised)
Published April 8, 2014 by rlmcdermottThe Artist
Published February 27, 2014 by rlmcdermottI’ve written
so many
poems
for you
and painted
pictures too
blue and
red and
gold on
paper made
of skin
I am
ashamed
of how
I’ve loved
a lantern
floating
in the sky
could not
have burned
as bright
I will
not stop
until
I reach
the sun
and all
my art
consumed
in flame
gives fiery
birth to your
sweet name
The Girl Who Cried Color (Final Version)
Published February 24, 2014 by rlmcdermottLong Season Of Waiting
Published February 14, 2014 by rlmcdermottI wonder why
for some of us
life is like a long
season of waiting.
Does the cone flower
know the brevity
of its dance;
its one brown
eye blasted daily
by the sun–
can it see
anything
but the sky?
I’m a flower too
and my season
has been long.
For me, there
is no fall
in this place
just an endless
summer of grief.
I am unnatural,
a seed lifted
by the breeze
and carried here–
distant from the prairie,
distant from the tall grass,
distant from the meadow lark,
and distant from that softer
season when the earth
puts on its gray hat
and takes its flowers home.
The Yew Tree
Published February 13, 2014 by rlmcdermottshe dresses
you in red
and takes
you to her bed
you think that I don’t know
but flowers
grow beside
my heart
and tell me
all their secrets
the small hotel
the river Seine
the Paris sky
pain is all I know these days
you lied
I was myself
until you came
and sat beside me
on a garden bench
and asked my name
I couldn’t turn away
two years have passed
since that bright day
the moon has danced
across so many skies
all painted blue and
I grow old and cannot
die for love of you
Love’s Last Moon
Published January 27, 2014 by rlmcdermottLe Jardin
Published November 21, 2013 by rlmcdermottthe place was set
but no one came
she waited for an hour
and then she ate
pistachio and pumpkin
chestnuts and white truffles
outside the rain
the waitress was kind
and left her to her pain
the other diners
pretended she
was not alone
and smiled at
the lonely woman
sitting by herself
French restaurants in fall
the opera crowd
with season tickets
the sommelier
the taste of taro on her tongue
the bitter root of love denied
coffee and a sweet dessert
she paid the price






