The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton
Certain petals curl beneath your languid fingers,
rising into warm smiles of sunlit forests
where birds sing of gentle branches' sway in western winds,
whispering tender reveilles
of a wildflower’s nonchalant nobility.
My hand seeks trembling truth within yours
when the robust moon melts slowly over mountains
we cannot quite see.
Dilettantes may pause in their implausible rhetoric,
not understanding the subtle strength of currents cached
in obscure oceans beyond starlit nights we sink into,
giggling courageously like the children we are
and will yet become...