Where The Stones Warmed Our Feet
In the
shadows of the trees,
a hand reached out to me—
I was looking northward
where there was a raindrop party—
In the lack of lights from which a woman had taken
to make up her face,
I found
the red trees I lounged beneath
vigorous, ready to spark, unprovoked.
Not all
those who are lost wander…
and I did
not look up high enough to see the moon
when my love just then descended so near to me
with a kiss so red of heaven, a touch firm and pure—
And then a sweeping caress—
Not all those who are lost wander,
and not all those who lose themselves are lost.
Jade Nicole Beals is a writer and painter living in Massachusetts. She earned her degree in English Literature and philosophy from Brooklyn College and was an editor and contributor to the college's literary magazine. Jade has written two poetry collections in print, and her work has also appeared in The Meridian Anthology Vol. III, Four and Twenty, A Blackbird Sings, and is forthcoming in Indelible.
She writes the blog, Blush of Dawn at jadenicolebeals.com.
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