Archives for posts with tag: valentine’s day

Love’s Identity

Love is the wonder
that crosses your face
when you gaze
at a blooming vine
in your garden,
under the neapolitan skies
of an evening hour.

Love speaks
through the words
of an advertisement
that catches your notice
on an ordinary evening
as you check your email,

But Love is bigger than that,
and even you would not deny it—
though it seems an awkward stranger,
like a friend who is gradually lost
to distance of one sort or another.

Love knew you
before you knew Love;
before you knew anything at all.

Reminders such as this
catch your breath in your throat
and you push back your chair
in resistance, tears concealed
behind your beautiful hands.

Love stands sentinel,
only waiting for you.

Claire Juno, © 2017



His and Hers

Take them all,
or leave behind
what you no longer want.
You can always rip
the cover pages out,
the spaces where I signed
my name, or that I loved you,
or Merry Christmas.

The recipes are as good
as they ever were, regardless
of former sentiment.

Although I would be careful
about the coconut layer cake
from the birthday that ended
on an especially sweet note.

I would also caution you
on the maple oatmeal scones,
since I’m sure the last thing
you want to be reminded of
are those Sunday mornings
on the deck with the birdsong
and the breezes and hot
coffee, an entire luscious day
to ourselves.

Other than those,
you should be fine.
Oh, one more thing.
Steer clear of the chocolate pots—
those will take you down a lane
you swore you would never
traverse again.

Claire Juno, © 2014