2019 / poetry / author
JAMES CROAL JACKSON
THE SUDDEN, INTANGIBLE HEART
…
a dragonfly
dangled wing
above the pool
early morning
ballads on repeat
the mind
a mimosa
an old record player
pure sugar
champagne
umbrella
in the wind
rain
in the cups
a little left
TIME ALREADY TOLD
…
I say I miss you– I do– at what point does it become
redundant? I slept in your bed then it was
illusion, like the night, sun shifting angles into morning
delusion. I fear this will morph, too, this distance,
and render us unrecognizable, our living
in new homes, new moths to sort
from boxes. I am trying to locate the words
that conjured the blue magic that brought us
there, the honey we shared playing Jenga
on patios, wooden towers built only to collapse
under false expectations of longevity.