By Ashley Ellen Evelyn Edmonson Goetz
Love made a friend.
It was black.
And black was good.
No one was worried.
They were playing children’s games.
I looked.
You paused and waited.
You both did.
Blacky and Whitey.
You made friends.
Those friends were each other.
You ran up over the rafters when I blew smoke in the face of empty.
You scurried silently away.
I trust you.
I leaned back.
Crossed my knit boots.
My mucklucks.
My Shaman toes.
The light would not go out.
I tried to blow it.
I looked at the head-less Priest.
I shook my head at him.
I looked at the kneeling, bowing Angel.
She reminded me to look again.
I saw that you, Priest, were holding a dove.
A morning gift.
Thank you.
I bow.
I place my half full filter still burning in front of the Goddess.
It is a Sanctuary.
It is Bop Kabbalah.
It is Nothing.
It is Everything.
I leave you be.
You are O.K.
It is done.
It is finished.
You are gone.
Far and Away.
I tell you to scratch at the locked door if you want to come in.
I left the front door open.
Unhinged.
If someone hears you crying, they will surely let you in.
Be strong.
You’re having fun tonight.
Oh I forgot, it’s Morning!
Good Day Sir!
It’s a sunny afternoon is it not?
