an affirmation originating in starlight
and sometimes staying all night
the here and now from the then and there—
unified, more or less, or flying
away in the wind, a structure of time
situated in a puzzle of monumental changes
metallic city weather, halos on the pavement;
the simple remorse of torrential rain cresting
identity adds up the losses merging into
the long blue hum of a highway dawn
a deserted pasture in morning light, a quiet breeze
suggesting anything, even freedom, might be possible
The false edges of sympathy frequently ask questions and map the scene of the accident. The old painter’s still life obscures the angels in the background like kewpie dolls, ripe for the kissing.
Faith is glossy and durable and spins both ways on a moment’s notice. If you ride a palomino into the wilderness, you might mix champagne with moonlight and drink golden tears.
No matter how many times wrought iron circles offer sanctuary, only anomalies of form and spirit will be protected.
Resist the urge to gaze into glistening water. The glass slipper in the wishing well is seldom the answer to unanswered prayers.
Christina Murphy’s poetry is an exploration of consciousness as subjective experience, and her poems appear in a wide range of journals and anthologies, including, in PANK, La Fovea, Dali’s Lovechild, and Hermeneutic Chaos Literary Journal, and in the anthologies Let the Sea Find its Edges and Remaking Moby-Dick. Her work has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize and for the Best of the Net Anthology.