sestina for Bunny and Elijah ( poem 8)

Looking up into the blue sky, we see grey clouds
Puffed and fluffy looking;earths natural smoke
Billows above our heads, necks, backs, eyes penetrate
Squinting, searching for the wings of an angel
Fluttering our feet, stuttering against the sidewalk
Asphalt, it appears as a storm is brewing, a hurricane.

Living in Cleveland I don’t witness many hurricanes
I witness death cascading, looming clouds
Cast shadows on bloodied sidewalks
Bodies once flesh now rest in crematorium transitioning to smoke
People once mobile and emoting now angels
Flying or wafting watching with slits that penetrate.

When you died Bunny it was a piercing drop in my heart, penetrates
And thumps wildly when I ride down Wade Park feels like a Hurricane
Named after you my beloved friend, my wild and classy angel;
I always look to the sky expecting to see your smile peeking a boo through clouds
I think I’ll see you through the haze of loud, I swim through smoke
Searching for the first day we saw each other and smiled standing on the sidewalk

On Kinsman, we grew up very fast and with purpose standing on sidewalks
Showing assets and flashing teeth so pearly they would penetrate
Those who dared to stare; back then at 13 we wasn’t consuming smoke
We were tiny windstorms flailing brown arms creating hurricanes
We danced on tips and had attitudes heads tilted up towards the clouds
Now I dance alone and stifle tears in memory of you dear Willa, our angel

Though my baby Elijah was my first true angel
Being born in a hospital his blood is stained on the sidewalk
Outside of my old house where Bunny and I lived under storm clouds
On Avon;  you came to remove the doubt in my heart and penetrate
My soul into a new person, I am becoming the hurricane
I carried you, gave birth to you, then you left me in a whirlwind of smoke

Like the story in I and II Kings you were picked up and your remnants mimic smoke
I inhale it and choke on you everyday Elijah my evidence that angels
Are real and alive and dragonflies come bright and on purpose when its a hurricane
To remind our human selves to play hopscotch on sidewalks
Not railroad tracks or strange mens laps who selfishly want to penetrate
My love;  because of you Elijah I no longer ignore the grey clouds

I embrace the clouds and get lost in smoke
I penetrate my senses to get a glimpse at my angels
Closing my eyes standing on sidewalks waiting for the arrival of the Hurricane.

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About monalisasrandomthoughts

I craft people poems. I laugh out-loud. I love all things. Everything is about order. My movements are chess. Everything to me calculates. I just look like this.
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