Spectacle

Every midsummer’s night
our daughter slips out of heaven
and watches us sleep
in a tossed-covers bed.

If either of us woke
we would see her standing there
in her ethereal-spectral form
with twinkling stars in her eyes.

But we never do wake
to see this spectacle
because she comes to see us
in the innocence of sleep.

The type of Adam & Eve sleep
before the Apple
before the introduction
of the knowledge of good and evil.

Our daughter leaves messages
in the guise of hummingbirds
that there is no good or evil.
Thus we should not suffer.

That message is easiest to believe
during the day in the foothills
when we are among piñon jays
and the junipers are thick with berries.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Dear Desert

What I took
as stretch marks
you bear on
your belly
from birthing
the human race
was cracked
age lines
discolored with
sun spots
above
tectonic faults.

Beautiful still
in spite of
or because of
the danger
you might
breach
once more
but this time
with sandhill cranes
to sound
the recall
so you may
return us
to a molten state
and reshape
humanity anew.

The bees
crawling from
the chollas’
magenta blooms
means you remain
sweet on us.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Heart Of Gold

In Delphi’s blood
a reddish dull yellow
color mixture
not quite orange
resulted from
the placement
of the philosopher’s stone
upon her heart
by her mother
when she was a child
and it transformed
some of the iron
in her hemoglobin
into gold
counter to
the popular myth
about the stone’s effect
on bluish-gray lead.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Amethyst Irises

Dora was not born like the rest of us.
She sprang from the thought
of the One Tree.
The solution to a cypher.

Not a hybrid of two species
but something new
and complex
sung from a creation hymn.

This was after the seven days
and many years
gone by in a wink
of God’s eye.

Outside evolution really.
A creature placed
into bone and flesh
as a new design.

I say it was the wiring.
Her brain. Its connectivity
to the heart
to understand emotion

the chemical escapades
that invest survival
and appear
irrational.

She has the quality
Rain Queen
for a desert people
busy with I … I … I … I … I.

Some days I see her
as a star-shine bridge
all rainbow
and ominously Norse.

Speaking with others
we cannot agree
upon her appearance
as different eyes

give her different attributes.
For me her hair never grows
long enough
for braids.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Anchoring The Earth

The tree of darkness balanced its shade.
Between all its leaves spiders spun webs.

In only one spot a circle of moonlight snuck through.
It illuminated a heart surrounding two names carved on its trunk.

The question is who would choose such a tree
to declare their love?

Even here a breeze disguises a greater breath
its collision with my cheek and throat.

As the moon sets, the spiders’ abdomens
issue a phosphorescent glow.

The leafy canopy blocks out all other constellations
to create its own in radiant blue hues.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Your Side Of The Bed

I see you have a new
boa constrictor.

Your voice tells it
to stop crushing the elephant

decorated comforter
or you’ll put it out to the dog house.

Last year’s dandelion puffs
cloud your bathtub

in place of fragrant
bath bubbles.

This prevents you from
soaking too long

thus pruning your skin
into a bushel of peri-wrinkles.

Our dog started eating
the boa constrictor’s tail

just as the boa swallowed
our dog’s tail

in the imitation
of something mythic

I once heard you murmur
between your petite snores.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Very Bad Thing

Delphi’s shoulders are now much smaller
thus do not hold up the world anymore.

At least she asked for help
and we all pitched in to steady earth’s orbit.

We took turns spreading liniment
on achy muscles we could not reach ourselves.

Delphi made a schedule
so not everyone would help the same day.

Tomorrow we must realign the planet
so Wisconsin is not at the equator.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney