ROBERT EVORY

ARCHETYPE OF LOVERS

 

If like a bird and also like stained glass

you gather fragments of yourself and the earth

 

to make a landscape that is your life, what part of you

comes out whole? What is there to come out of

 

but some mother figure that we desire to crawl inside?

Honey jars and lavender soap; wine rack

 

and crystal stemware; polished silver and elaborately

carved wood trim. The heart is pieced together

 

with imagined worth of a lover. How many

pieces can a life break into – I don’t know.

 

Goodbye comes as a hammer of grief and also like nothing.

You are gone and everything went with you.

 

All I feel is the empty space where fragments once met.

rusty boat yard.jpg

 


                                               ARCHETYPE OF ENDLESS GUILT

 

                        The parade of cars

 

motor through the mountains

 

headlights in a blurred line of light

 

toward the city,

 

                        orbit the off ramps

 

with the silent annotation of stars.

 

                        Steam from city factories

 

a breath

 

of nebula

 

                        the distant color of chemicals

 

in flux.

 

                        Ions of bonding and breaking

 

travel eons just to die in your eye.

 

Earth is the last drop

 

from a drinking canteen

 

mixed among the many specks

 

of a dust storm:

 

the drop thinks there is another

 

un-thirsty

 

man out there

 

with a swollen belly of her.


BIO

ROBERT EVORY is a creative writing fellow at Syracuse University. He is the Poetry Editor for Salt Hill and the co-founder and managing editor for The Poet’s Billow. He earned his Bachelor degrees from Western Michigan University in Creative Writing and Music. His poetry is featured or is forthcoming in: Spillway, Spoon River, The Baltimore Review, Redactions: Poetry & Poetics, CURA, Pennsylvania English, Nashville Review, Wisconsin Review, Sierra-Nevada Review, Water~Stone Review, and elsewhere.