“Love” Poems For Kathy Number Eighteen


Slow time, slow time, or if

the rush is not resented, then

go like a wavering reed and run,

plucked from the shallow bed, into the sun.

Do not! Do not!

Slow time and never give

me cold caves, sinking levels, brief

lest leaving

(fast withering wreath)

leaves nothing-ever.

Feathering like a ruff

your hair (so ragged at the edges) haloes your face,

and ah, your eyes’ (my darling) brave blue bruised me –

penitent disgrace!

Slow time! Slow time! and we,

bettering the hours,


never in perpetuity, though in the wake.

(from “”Love” Poems For Kathy / Green. Laced. Leaves”)

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Written by Jonathan Finch