J. P. Dancing Bear: Two Poems
Gacela of Floating Love | Even Now
Gacela of Floating Love
Love floats on a distant current of his blood.
Love floats a bottle bobbing in his currents.
There should be a message in the glass.
There is an empty bottle, sealed and drifting.
At sunset, the bottle fills with orange light.
At dawn, the bottle is a pinkish light.
The bottle wants for a beach to rest upon.
The bottle aches for a hand to grasp it.
This vessel could hold a body of water.
This vessel would hold a manís blood like water.
Men think love is a girl's flirtatious eyes.
Men think love hides in a woman's swinging gait.
Men dream of love like emptying bottles.
Men dream of love like recycling glass.
A manís dreams rock him slowly like the waves.
A manís love is confined to rocking on the sea.
The men live with hope and despair for love.
The men live on the bottom of the ocean.
Love is a glint of light off a bottle.
Love is afloat, adrift on the sea of a manís heart.
Even now, my Dearest,
Autumn has begun to rise up
out of the heart of this forbidding city,
a ghost of cold air,
a subtle change in the slipstream. I forget
each year, how it creeps up, moves upon us,
grips us with bands of red and gold.
Even now, it is hard to make sense
of the withering, the slow march
Today is a celebration, today is a tune
whistled through a defiant green blade
for the warmth of you.
Yes, Dearest, even as I button my overcoat,
I keep a sunny day within me one saved
not for the shortest day or a terrible sadness,
but for moments like this
your hand finding mine,
your fingers threading mine.
J. P. Dancing Bearís poems have been published or are forthcoming in Shenandoah, Poetry International, New Orleans Review, National Poetry Review, Poetry East and many others. He is the editor of the American Poetry Journal and the host of "Out of Our Minds" a weekly poetry program on public radio station KKUP. His latest book of poems is Billy Last Crow (Turning Point, 2004).