The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton
In pallid light we fall,
a mosaic comprised of sultry tendrils of moss,
garrulous winds and succulent rain.
Amorphous soil becomes anathema;
we rise beyond religion,
arched beneath a southern sky futile with stars.
Rivulets of amethyst and amber trace our shadows,
torrid conflagrations writhing to ascend this subtle skin
which keeps us obliged to earth.
Capricious are we
within these stealthy evolutions of laughter,
a convergence of ether, land and sea
ebullient with the ebb and flow of these diadems of summer,
where we lay, sated.
A steady condensation of chaos evaporates within our blood
and cautiously pools within our eyes,
our lineage descending slowly
as suspicions of dreams unspent.
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