Construction Literary Magazine

Fall 2018

Six Emily Poems

Six Emily Poems

Photograph via Flickr by helen n.

Emily As Another Chance For Cinnamon to Surround The Oak Tree

Red door
to the first root,

we have taken
the space

the small,
empty area

from the color
we chose,

to the tree
that chose us

& decorated
that void

with a taste
we both love.

Any rustle
will remove

the cinnamon,
but that will

change
very little.

Emily As Seated Near Fire

Softly, away
from the mix
of elements

Emily is second
only to water
& the survivor’s

torn belief
that the music,
wild in configuration

is actually fire,
our first love,
cleared away

from the wind
that wants
most of all

to take it away.

Emily As Different Designs Of A Chair Moving Towards A Table

Our braids
of action
are only art

if they prove
frustrating
in the pursuit

of a brunch.
Gravy
of our hearts,

we share
our efforts
casually

with friends,
they
understand

why we eat
mostly
on the porch.

Emily As A Watery Emphasis

Maybe it was altering our matter, I feel
quite soupy, an almost puddle of our dense
frivolity.  We change as the temperature

changes.  We are ornament and persuasion
of the gleam of the ornament.  We drip
to pool together.  We, Emily and I,

are distant from any precious developments,
but that does not mean we cannot be tender
with the gymnastics of our many versions.

Emily As A Good Jab

Stunned
& still
moving,

I have felt
her fist
stay strong

in my ribs,
known it
was love

or love
becoming
something

much more.
I am a victim
only of Emily

& her attention
to my own
over-reaching.

Emily As Winter Is Not Hollow

Every thought of winter
is an old thought.  Fires
extinguished, snow melted,

we do not discuss the cold
that is about to happen, we
discuss the enjambment

of those extremes to
the proximity of our loved
ones.  I cannot predict

a single rattle of Ohio’s
draping, but I know how
it felt to be trapped

in the Ravine, our roads
iced to a level, where only
we existed, placed together.