Ghost Arrangement

 

More than not, you might look away, harder, against life itself

as if staring into the sun.  To have love, include the broken.

 

A primary rainbow is red on the outside & violet on the inside

& reversed in the secondary bow.  I take you to another window

 

where wasps spill from a nest in the eave.  How to explain

the future: a tree falls apart leaf by leaf—ocean ushered

 

through the house leaves behind a thin film of pulverized

pearl—wire breaks the tender hay.  For there is no end

 

to disappearing, no end to reinventing the snowflake, you speak

through the folded water.  From nothing was made our world. 

 

When the fruit is gone, it’s time.  The newly washed love

intensifies inside a much smaller sea, then the soft crashes out,

 

darkens the powerless irises, their flayed curves along the fence.

I think of the piano set ablaze just so the torchbearer could hear

 

the fire pluck the strings.  It burned under the moon in the yard. 

It is in the sky’s nature to change hue & remain blue-souled as

 

a shell but you—you are infinite, you are beautiful as lava. 

 

 

Flower Conroy is the author of three chapbooks: Facts About Snakes & HeartsThe Awful Suicidal Swans, and Escape to Nowhere.  Her poetry has appeared/is forthcoming in Gargoyle, American Literary Review, Menacing Hedge and others. 

 

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