R u m m y   P a r k

b y   R e b e c c a   L u   K i e r n a n


6.  Angel of Stone and Light

I float to the willow.
Where you are not,
I haunt another tree.
I step into your footprints
On the sandy macadam.
If they are washed,
I sink into the sea.
 
I leap through the fountain
To catch your coin.
I lean over the bench where you read.
I walk through the gingham plates
Of your solitary picnic.
I tug on your necklace of rosary beads.
 
Seven days after rising from stone,
Feathers are scorched by the sun.
Pluck them away
One by one.
 
I feel your gentle hands
Feed the sluggish winter birds.
I hear you laugh
As the grey cat taunts the squirrels.
I taste the raspberries
You sprinkle on your tongue.
I see your eyes close,
Willing me to fall through.
Could I survive the love
Of a God like you?