Sunday, February 10, 2013

Old Valentines

I send you a buried winter
frozen flowers lost under snow
the archaeology I know;
twisting paths to hinder

you, stranger. No easy miner
just my own ghostly angels chanting
in their freezing work, crying
diamond tears, the forms that shine.

They find the golden loves I held
once, melted, flowing underground,
presences who follow the miner's sounds,
transformed by winter's alchemical skill.

Allowing their souls to be reclaimed,
held apart and loved once more,
the spicy teas, their stories' lore—
then slip away, as hearts untamed.


  1. This is incredibly beautiful, and evocative, Lorna. One of my faves of yours, and I love all your poetry. Love the phrase "buried winter".....and the ghostly angels. Wonderful writing!

  2. I really like this piece from start to finish.

  3. Beautiful, as always.

    (Should it be 'once more' in last verse?)


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