Month: November 2010

Rose in Huế

Her name meant Rose.

Her kiss was nothing more
than a fleeting and tender
second, soft against a cheek,
permission to breathe
the same breath that comes
in the still moment you stop
to watch a firefly busy
thicket without trying
to decipher the message
flashing there in the leaves,
the truth you know you should
receive, but instead forfeit
for a quiet, floating Christmas
light minute in a warm, June breeze.

Her name meant Rose and it’s 9:24 am there.