Poets’ Corner: Rosemerry for Valentine’s Day

14 Feb Poets’ Corner: Rosemerry for Valentine’s Day

On Valentine’s Day, it all seems so straightforward, so simple: he gives you a little box or a big bouquet, chocolates too maybe; you give him, what?, basketball tickets. Long glance looks over a romantic dinner. But through her words, regular contributor (thank heaven), Word Woman Rosemerry Trommer, understands love is not simple. Love is a many nuanced thing, wide-eyed and perfect when we are young; more mature, love in all forms, for self and the other, becomes much more complex. Below, three ways of looking at the fragile reality we call “love.” “These are definitely older love poems, which is to say I wrote them this year and I am older,” said Rosemerry.

Rosemerry, by Kaycee Clark

Love 

Though I am undeniably broken

I come to you with no need to be fixed.

I come to you the way one river

meets another river—not joining

out of thirst but because

there is so much power

and beauty in giving oneself

to another, in moving

through the world together.

I come to you the way the half moon

comes into the yard—I could be more

whole, but in the meantime,

I will bring you everything

I have.

On Second Thought

Love, yeah, sure but really

it comes down to damn hard work.

I might have told that to those younger

versions of ourselves if they’d asked

what makes a partnership last.

But they weren’t asking. Too busy

building fires and climbing peaks.

Look at them, stars in their hair,

rivers in their blood. They look

so awfully happy, don’t they?

Shhhhh. let’s not tell them.

They’ll find out soon enough.

What I Can Do

If an arrow would do it,

I’d shoot not just one

but a dozen bright arrows

through anything, anything

that makes you feel small.

If an arrow would do it,

I’d practice each day

until I could aim at your fears

and shatter them, spear them,

pierce them through.

Oh love, if an arrow would do it,

I’d slay all your doubts.

I would buy the finest bow.

How useless it feels

to offer you tenderness,

but here is the hand

that would pull back the string,

and here are the eyes

that would find the mark,

and here is the heart

that would do anything

to save you.