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Rebecca's PoemMy Brother's Alabaster SundownRebecca's Poem
My brother was sculpting a heart of alabaster as I stood by chatting and amid the filings and jokes between the stories
bringing us up to date was a feeling of tangible loss.
With his spit he would bring out the rose satin gloss of the stone exposing its veins stroking its faults noting its sensual curves.
It was I who asked, "Do dreams come true? Can you be true to yourself?" as the dust flew, grew upon the ground, and he said, "Cover your eyes" as the sun went down.
RH@
by `Pelicanh
CRAZY TRAINby =einlee
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