APOLOGIA
by Cliff Saunders
Tripped by the sin of arrogance,
I offer my apologies to you
and the imagination thief in your head.
I had no idea that you felt a connection
to my collection of oily loons,
of painted buntings. Sorry
to both you and the birds
for popping the question. I’m sorry
your ex-lovers were shedding tears
when the great ship of fury burned
at the creek of empty nests.
I’m sorry you’re the one who crashed
into the cold, whose name drifted
to shore like a blossom then faded away.
Maybe I was hasty. Perhaps
I should have melted watches
and chewed gift cards and bragged
about sex with a backyard batting cage.
Maybe, at last, I found myself in a trap.
Who knows? To tell the truth,
I lost so much when darkness sprouted
in front of you from a farmer’s field.
I lost everything. I blew it,
and the price I paid was a heavy smoke
floating around in my head.
I felt guilty as a jail cell
filled with children. Sorry,
I only wanted to be a seabird
watching you eat your fill of love.
Gyroscope Review - page 40
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