copper compass
(A poem I wrote for my boyfriend about a year ago now and wanted to share 🤍)
A mourning dove doth take flight
To distinguish early day from night;
To sing out in dawn chorus call
Long before the sun rises tall.
A north star against an ink-overcast sky,
Uranus cloaked in silver clouds that cry;
As the flags dance in a gentle breeze
With winter wind tugging tenderly at their seams.
A flake of ice; a sharpened skate
A calm, quiet and restful state;
A land once unburied, beneath a sheet of snow,
And cold that nudges the great white lakes to grow
At home, in solace, hot tea and stoked fire-
Accompanied by soft fleece January attire.
Now when I hear the early dawn coo,
I’ll think firstly and mostly of you;
The flake of ice, and sharpened skate,
And the place you call home, Michigan state.
And how flight is meant for the mourning doves,
So too are we, humans, meant for love.
scarlet jasper