I like the smells and our body juices mixing anointing us for springtime
The Watcher at the gate bares her breast to suckle the corpse: we do not kiss the dead there is too much intimacy in death, and the lines in our faces betray us originally published in ARC 26 by the IAWE
Here it is Spring Again
I’ve written too many poems in your name to tell of love dying as the earth renews itself, to wear as a badge a dried crow’s claw at my breast
©2022 Ira Director
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…holds a BA in Philosophy from the USA and a Masters in English and Poetry fromBar-Ilan University. His poems have been seen in journals, e-zines and art exhibitions where they increasingly are integral to his paintings. In 2002 I instituted Poetry from Bar-Ilan a program for Bar-Ilan’s poets to read their works in public venues, and produced the annual program for 8 years. His integrated poetry and paintings, along with other artworks can be viewed at the website link below.