MELANIE DUBOSE POETRY
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After the Fire
​
After the fire
Strange dark purple flowers
Came out of the cracks of the
blackened chaparral
In the hills beyond the house
 
The cattle heron shone
White against the burnt tree limbs
 
We sat on the bare ground
eating sandwiches
and the onigiri with plum
that you had made
laughing
we were drenched
in a quick spring rain
 
The moon hung low
visible though it was day
 
It may well be
That one day even this moon
Will be gone
 
And our sun a dead star
 
Will you forget me first?
I wouldn’t mind
 
Every year at this time lilies
bloom in the yard
planted by some unknown hand
years ago
 
Here I’ve brought you
bulbs for your birthday

A version of this poem initially appeared in the journal
After/Ashes A Camp Fire Anthology - Wordspring Press 2018

​



​Do I Need to Explain Forgetting

​Your name is there
Somewhere
Right there
on the tip of an iceberg
Melting
In the bright sun
No…that’s not right
 
Do I need to explain
forgetting?
 
Besides
I can remember
 
I remember
The shape of your wrist
The gravity of your earlobes
The hollow in your throat
The softness of your hair
falling
on the inside of my thigh
Your lips
 
Hypnotize me and I
will tell you your name

This poem initially appeared in 2018 Passager #65 Poetry Contest Journal 
www.passagerbooks.com/2018-passager-poetry-contest/


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  • Melanie
  • Poetry
  • Journals
  • About
  • Tiny Films