Here, from my box of precious things:
a handful of rose petals dry and wither-burnt;
a smooth stick in the shape of a perfect “y;”
a tarnished ring, once gold;
a small keepsake vial filled with ash.
[Paltry offerings from a has-been box.]
You can see it, can’t you:
the rose when it sang with its sisters
before it was cradled in a hand, and deeply inhaled;
the twig when it branched and bloomed buds,
the small trumpet of Spring;
the ring in its days of luster; and
my father when he stood strong-boned,
skin flush with the flow of blood.
I am told; with time
these things will rise again
and blush full-bloom,
that the thin song of memory
will thicken into harmony,
and that for You,
everything is at once
ash and becoming.
Tamara Nicholl-Smith is currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Saint Thomas in Houston. Her poetry has appeared on two Albuquerque city bus panels, one parking meter, numerous radio shows, a spoken-word classical piano fusion CD, and in several publications, including the Mutablis Press anthologies Enchantment of the Ordinary and Chaos, Dive, Reunion (forthcoming), Kyoto Journal, The Examined Life Journal, Catholic Arts Today and America.
