Ray Sharp and Annmarie Lockhart

Paria Canyon, Arizona, April 2008

Ray Sharp

Photo

All the Old Familiar Songs

By Ray Sharp

Response

.

Oh my darling, sing to me

in this time of dreadful sorrow.

.

Verses fly across the chasm

like birds on a treacherous crossing.

.

They ignite in spontaneous flarings,

they plunge, exhausted, to icy depths,

.

They stray into canyonlands

where words echo like folk songs:

.

Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.

Where have all the flowers gone?

.

If I had a hammer. If I had my way,

I would tear this old building down.

.

Inheritance

By Annmarie Lockhart

Inspiration Piece

.

There are five years between the age that I am

now and the age at which my grandmother died.

.

Our shared name differentiates us from siblings

but fits our places on either side of my mother.

.

I know her pretty face only from aging photos;

my coloring and features are not hers.

.

I never saw the lines of her palm;

we were not born under the same sign.

.

Today, for the first time, I considered my own end

and if it would be at her time or in her way.

.

The sounds of the crash, the pierce of the glass,

the crush of bone, the snap of neck, real for a moment,

.

then gone again. Nothing more than repeated words

echoing like folk songs handed down through time.

.

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One Comment

  1. Gracie Burns
    Posted December 12, 2011 at 4:16 pm | #

    These poems gel together as if they were two chapters to one story. They are poignant and striking.

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