Sunday, February 5, 2017

In The Year Of

In the year of the pestilence,
in the time of the puppet government,
we fell in love.

We held hands, and gamboled 
as others doubled over and died.

In the year of the pogrom,
in the hour of the public noose,
we were giddy,

and grateful for our milky corneas
our couplings, and our luck.
________ 

another starry-eyed love poem for flash 55.

17 comments:

hedgewitch said...

Love as always, suits your pen, even when dipped in gall and wormwood.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I especially like the milky corneas, helpful in such times.

Marian said...

I would gamble on this gambol! I wish for this.

Other Mary said...

THis is depressingly excellent.

Sioux said...

Shay--Great choice of photograph, and I'm hoping we DO have some luck in the next four years...

Kerry O'Connor said...

Starry-eyed indeed! I love your love poems best of all, Shay.

Mama Zen said...

Damn.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Stupendous write!!

said...

Ha. You crack me up. :)

grapeling said...

what I wish I could write ~

Margaret said...

Go out and find it - and hang on for the ride. (like : hour of the public noose)

rhymeswithbug.com said...

This is powerful!

Cloudia said...

find your refuge where ye may

angieinspired said...

lucky to be in love. and i love all its strangeness

Lynn said...

In that kind of time, luck indeed.

razzamadazzle said...

Luck is always good! Love the "milky corneas."

Jennifer Wagner said...

Love in times such as these seems like a Godsend. Excellent poem.