A glance stirs the fragile violet
Into lilac circles;
A shiver dances
Along the clover warm from the noon sun.
A whisper sends gulls
Inland from the sea,
Wheeling toward perches
Along a grassy river.
A touch bends
Two willow hands of a palm
Into the green heart
Of fervent prayer.
You glance in the wrong direction,
Whisper over your shoulder at our party,
Touch her hand when passing a drink,
Nudging the rotation of a spiral storm.
Your caress lifts the spiral
toward a forbidden kiss
With heavenŐs blue harmony
Leaving a shuttered, shuddering earth.
© Christine Jackson
Bio: Christine Jackson teaches literature and creative writing at a university in South Florida where hurricanes weigh heavily on our collective mind.